


The Devil You Know

by slow_poked



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-15 08:23:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13609401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slow_poked/pseuds/slow_poked
Summary: King Dice visits the Devil's casino and gets more than he bargained for. Anything goes in this casino- who is trustworthy, who is hiding their feelings, and who will do whatever they need to get what they want?





	1. The Casino King

**Author's Note:**

> send any questions or suggestions to http://slow-poked.tumblr.com/ !! i would love to incorporate any ideas that people want to see!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Dice is feeling a little lucky in the casino tonight and decides to face off against none other than the Devil. He's confident enough to put his soul on the line.

_ Click click click.  _ The sound of poker chips clicking together was music to Mr. King Dice’s ears. He was shuffling a few in his hand while sipping a drink out of the other, and taking a debatably well-deserved break. It was still within his first week of living in Inkwell, and he had already made a name for himself in the Devil’s casino. He’d won every game several times over; in fact, he hadn’t lost yet. Few people talked to him, but most talked about him, murmuring as he walked by. A big subject of gossip was what he was the king of anyway. Some said it was just his first name, others said he was the king of a faraway land, sent to Inkwell to steal all their money, coming from a long line of dice who don’t have heads like that for nothing. Yet others said he earned that name by being the casino king, dominating every game they could throw at him. No matter what or who he was, it was clear the casino was where he belonged as long as he kept on winning.

Dice watched the casino-goers milling about as he considered what kind of house he could buy in Inkwell. He had moved into a dingy apartment on Isle Three, but considering how well he was doing in the casino, he could probably upgrade quite soon. He wondered how much money he could make here before someone figured him out…

“Another drink?” Dice’s musings were interrupted by the bartender. He just realized his drink was empty and wondered how long he had been holding an empty glass to his lips.

“Of course, ma’am.” he said, sliding the glass and a few more dollars towards her. As she was refilling it, Dice noticed there was quite the commotion at one of the tables. There was too many people in the way for him to tell just what was happening, so he decided to investigate. Taking a sip from his newly filled glass, he headed over.

He pushed his way through the crowd, or more accurately they moved aside willingly to make way for the Casino King. Upon getting close enough he could finally behold the sight that drew the crowd: the Devil himself! Despite being the owner of the casino, the Devil rarely made an appearance, and his was the first time that Dice had set eyes on him. He was quite tall (and that is a lot, coming from the leggy Dice), and hairy, grinning menacingly as he hunched over his cards, his shining red and gold eyes examining every movement of hs opponent. Across the table sat a much smaller gentleman, who was attempting to feign confidence but not doing a great job; he was shaking in his boots. Aside from that observation Dice paid little attention to him or even the game that they were playing, he was too enthralled by the sight of the Devil. Watching a clawed hand grip his cards and slam them down on the table, Dice only had one idea in his mind:  _ I want to play against him. I need to prove that I’m the best. _

“You lose!” the Devil growled gleefully. “You’re lucky you didn’t bet your soul that time! You walk free today!” He cackled as his opponent fled the building for fear of his soul getting stolen nonetheless.

The Devil grinned wider at the sight, and reclined in his seat. “Anyone else wanna take me on? I’m in a good mood today.” He shoved a cigar in between his fangs and lit it with a snap of his fingers.

The entire crowd seemed to tense up and back off. Dice didn’t move, but he began to feel eyes on him, and he swore he heard some murmurs of his name. He told himself he wouldn’t lose his confidence, even when the Devil himself locked eyes with him.

“You!” he hissed. “I’ve heard about you! I’ve heard about some square ruining my business by taking all the money for himself!”

Dice did his best to stay composed. He felt flattered that people felt the need to complain to the boss about him. “What can I say,” he said smoothly, “I just can’t stop winning!”

“Is that so?” The Devil leaned towards Dice. “So you think you can beat me at my own game, then?”

“Well, sir, if I play my cards right, I suppose I just might could.” Excitement was welling up inside of him at the thought of some real competition, and he leaned in as well.

“You’re a feisty one! Feisty enough to bet your soul on this game?”

Dice hesitated for a split second, thinking of what he was getting himself into. But he immediately dismissed the thought as to not blow his confidence. “What’s in it for me in return?”

The Devil leaned back again, thinking as he blew out a smoke ring. “Well, I’d tend to bet the riches on the casino, but at this rate you’re likely to win it all yourself anyway. Ain’t the glory of winning good enough for a guy like you?”

Dice hated to admit that the Devil was right. He was definitely prideful enough to bet his soul and win just to say that he did it. But he didn’t want the Devil to know that.

“Say what,” the Devil continued before Dice could reply, “You manage to beat me, I’ll let you decide what you want then. Whatever you want. You’re an interesting guy so let’s make this an interesting bet.” He held out a bony, scaly hand.

It seemed like an eternity that Dice was staring at the hand. He loses, he’s in the Devil’s debt. He wins, the Devil is… in his debt? The stakes certainly were high. He could feel the eyes of the entire casino on him. Even the other tables have stopped gameplay to see what would happen. The Casino King couldn’t stand to let his subjects down. With a wide grin he shook the Devil’s hand with his gloved one. The room erupted in mumbles and murmurs as Dice sat down to play.

The Devil chuckled as he picked up the deck of cards. They seemed to move on their own as he shuffled them, floating and fluttering between his hands. “Let’s keep it real simple, Dice,” he said, his blood-colored eyes not breaking contact, “Just a nice little game of Poker.”

If eternity was the moment before the handshake, how long was the game? The two seemed evenly matched, each taking their time, both seeming cool and confident as ever. A couple of viewers got bored and went to do other things or go home, but for most, it was mesmerizing. Possibly the two best card players in all of Inkwell, with a life on the line. The only thing keeping Dice’s nerves down was the amount of drinks he had. But luckily that didn’t hinder his playing; that was ingrained in him deeper than any drink could reach. He had been playing these games his whole life, starting when he was young and would try to play with the adults and then teach the other school kids how to play. His teachers had scolded him for sneaking off and playing “The Devil’s Games”. It was ironic how now he was sitting across from the Devil himself.

The two appeared to be down to their last few cards. This was it, and Dice felt his heart pounding. Things were looking good for him, but he had no clue what the Devil had in store. He had that toothy, sly grin the entire game, and it was impossible to tell if he was bluffing or not. Dice could read anyone, but apparently not the Devil.

“You know,” the Devil growled, pinching the last of his cards in his claws, “I can tell your soul is quite different. It would be a lovely addition to my collection.” He laid his cards down surprisingly gently and precisely. A full house. A better hand that Dice had predicted, he must have been cheating somehow. Dice chuckled in amusement and slammed down his cards. The Devil let out a surprised grunt. “Royal Flush, eh? So that means--”

“I win!” Dice interrupted. Standing up suddenly, and did a little jig. “I keep my soul today, Devil! Hi-de-ho!”

The Devil looked perplexed but tried not to lose it in front of the crowd, which was silent in shock. “How-- But I--” he stammered.

Mr. King Dice grinned widely. “I know,” he said, and let out a laugh upon seeing the Devil’s face as he realized that Dice had out-cheated him. “I told you I could beat you at your own game, Devil!”

The Devil held himself back from lashing out and embarrassing himself. No one except the two competitors knew that they were both cheating. It may has well have appeared that Dice just got lucky with his cards. Calming himself down, he began to slowly clap, leading the audience to erupt in cheer. It was cut off when the Devil spoke again. “Well played, Dice, but now. What is it that you want as your reward? The bet was made. I owe you one now.”

“I…” Dice stopped celebrating to think for a moment. “I don’t quite know. I’ll surely come up with something. In the meantime, everyone gets drinks on me!” The crowd cheered once more and followed Dice to the bar. As he went he could hear the Devil snapping at his employees and stopping them from following and celebrating.

As for the other casino patrons, they enjoyed a long night of partying. Neither the Devil nor his employees seemed to do anything to stop the rowdy festivities; it would be quite embarrassing to shut down your own defeat party, anyway. Dice wondered if there was a special place in Hell being reserved for him over this, so in the meantime he was going to live it up.

Although it was evident before this victory, it was very obvious during this night: Dice was very popular with the women of the casino. As he lounged at the bar, some would coo at him while others would caress his broad shoulders. When he was feeling especially affectionate, he would lift some up and whisk them away for the night. There were men who liked him too, of course, and occasionally some would approach him as the tipsy women did. But more often than not they would shoot him a look, and he would meet with them out back after dark. It wasn’t a shameful act, rather the men of the casino often desired to act more dignified in the public space. But when the lights went out, Dice saw no difference between any of them.

This particular night, Dice was surveying the people surrounding him, wondering what he felt up to that night. He had already reached his emotional high for the day, and was sure that none of these people could top it. For a few moments he watched the casino staff as they milled about without daring to get too close. He knew that approaching them would tick the Devil off more than he already had, so he dismissed the thought. A few girls had a chat with him for a while, but passed out by the bar before long. Dice himself didn’t like to embarass himself, and was drinking in moderation as he happily bought drinks for everyone else as they stumbled over themselves. Dice knew that drunk was not a good look for him.

The party went on well into the night, and the Devil was nowhere to be seen after his defeat. As the casino grew quieter and approached closing time, the casino’s patrons either passed out or left one by one. Dice eventually found his chance to leave for the night, content with being home on his own after this socially draining event. Before leaving, he took a detour for a quick bathroom break. He entered a silent hallway and spotted the bathroom door, humming to himself as he approached it.

“Hey.”

Dice nearly jumped out of his shoes. He turned to see the Devil leaning against the wall in the shadows down the hallway.

“Uh, hello?” Dice said, as the Devil approached him. “Here to kill me for cheating, eh?” he joked. He tried to hide the fact that even though he won the game, he was still a bit frightened of him. His pride prevented him from letting himself lose, but after all this was the Devil he was dealing with. Not the best guy to piss off.

“No, no,” The Devil stood up and stepped more into the light. He maintained steady eye contact with Dice. “I’ve actually got an… opportunity for you. I like the way you play, Dice. I’m wondering if you’d like a job here.”

Dice didn’t know what to say. Surely it was a trick? It was far too straightforward.

It was as if the Devil read his mind. “No tricks, no soul stealing. You’d do well as a dealer here. Make me a lot of money, if you know what I mean.”

Dice took a moment to consider. It was clear he wanted to hire Dice so he wouldn’t keep winning all the games and leave some for the other customers. But for him to cheat as a dealer? It sounded quite interesting, and something he should have expected of the Devil. He wondered if any of the other employees had beaten him before and ended up in the same position. By the way the Devil had reacted upon losing, however, it seemed like a rare occurrence.

Would Dice be a sellout if he went through all that just to work for the Devil anyway? Well, at least he gets to keep his soul. And he wasn’t going to forget the Devil’s end of the deal. Really, he decided, he had nothing to lose with this endeavor. He was still on the advantaged side, as far as he could see. “Well, Devil,” he finally said, speaking clearly to hide the fact he was still unsure, “After beating you, it seems I’ve peaked. I’ll take the job. As long as you remember you still owe me one.”

“Pfft,” the Devil said, looking a bit reluctant and breaking eye contact. He was still clearly embarrassed. “Of course. I don’t go back on a bet. So if you’re sure about the job, show up tomorrow at 7. Walk right in the employee entrance, no one’ll stop you.”

“Sounds good,” said Dice, smiling. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He slid into the bathroom without another word from the Devil, and when he came out there was no sign of him. Dice headed home immediately after to get some rest before his new job.

Dice made his way home in the dark, tired but wide awake due to the adrenaline rush of the deal he just made. He entered his apartment and flipped on the light, revealing a home that was far less glamorous than the casino, though the smell was comparable. He had come to Inkwell with practically nothing, after all. He packed up his nicest clothes and hopped on a boat, putting everything on the line in the hopes of winning big. Being as good at making bets as he was, it ended up being quite a good deal for him.

In the comfort of his home, Dice allowed himself to be a bit more sloppy and drink more freely. Here he didn’t care how he looked or acted; he wasn’t having any visitors, anyway. Despite his popularity at the casino, he didn’t talk to anyone outside of that environment. People rarely even saw him in the daylight. If he wasn’t sleeping all day, he spent his time lazily listening to the radio, drunkenly singing to himself in the mirror, and jacking off. He didn’t mind this, though. As much as he loved the high class casino life more than anything, even he needed to wind down in private. Even if he was to move into the mansion of his dreams, he would still be found with his pants down during his alone time.

Dice’s pants and tie were already on the ground as he poured himself a glass of wine to help himself wind down. He wanted to pass out before having second thoughts about taking a job for the literal Devil. It seemed like a stupid, spur of the moment agreement, but something inside told him it would be all right. He usually trusted his gut without question-- it was part of why he did so well in the casino-- but this time he hesitated. The Devil was charming, but also predictable. At some point, however, he knew he would fail to see through him and pay for it. He would have to tread carefully with this job, and if he screwed up, he would leave and never come back. Maybe snatch some extra money while he was at it. He was going to make sure he benefited from this deal no matter what.

He placed his third glass of wine haphazardly on his bedside table before climbing under the covers. As per usual, he found himself fantasizing about his future as he drifted off to sleep. A massive home, his own casino, surrounded by money… like the Devil, but better.


	2. First Day In Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dice begins his job in the casino and meets some of the employees. Meanwhile, the Devil is deciding how he feels about his newest employee.

Dice opened his eyes after what felt like only a few minutes of sleep. He didn’t get back home until well past midnight, and now his clock read 6 AM. He laid there for a few moments, trying to recall the night before. Some of it felt like a dream, but that was probably because of all the drinks. He shot up upon realizing that he had a job now, and one hour to get ready. He had accepted the job so casually that he had almost forgotten.

Struggling to stand before taking a look in the mirror, Dice inspected himself. He’d had better mornings, that was for sure. He had fallen asleep before taking his makeup or shirt off; although he usually does every night, last night was certainly an exception. After deciding that he smelled decent enough-- he wasn’t concerned about the smell of alcohol, and his strong cologne was still lingering-- he washed his face and reapplied his makeup, then changed into some clean and unwrinkled clothes. He didn’t worry about picking out anything especially nice; people always told him he dressed well and even his casual wear appeared professional. High standards for his appearance-- in public, at least-- was something he took great pride in. There was no cheating when it came to looking good. After one more glance at his leggy but decently built figure in the mirror, he headed out for the Devil’s casino once again.

The sun had only recently risen but Dice could already feel its warmth breaking through the brisk morning air. It was extremely quiet; Dice was not familiar with it, being a night owl through and through. He wondered how much the Devil would have him do on his first day, given that he had to arrive so early. Very few people had any business going into the casino in the morning. He had agreed to work as a dealer, but he knew that he would end up having to do some menial tasks as well. As much as he enjoyed seeing things clean, he preferred to not clean up after drunk casino-goers.

Approaching the casino, he could feel a wave of heat that overpowered that of the rising sun. That place was heated by the fires of Hell itself. It looked especially strange in the morning. It was still lit up as it is at night, but the rays of the sun creeped through and cast a morning glow onto the neon lights. It somehow seemed more welcoming than threatening. He approached the door and hesitated for a moment before pulling it open. Its creaks echoed in the silence. He stepped in, his well-shined shoes clicking on the marble floor. He could hear milling around in the distance, but the lobby and front desk were empty. Spotting the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY, he looked around before walking right in as he was instructed.

Past these doors were a few faces he recognized. Most were just servers and people who worked in the kitchen, but there were a few other dealers there early as well. Some turned to look at Dice and a few whispered to one another, surely about yesterday’s events. One of them approached Dice with a wide grin. In fact, his grin took up most of his 8-Ball face. “You must be Mr. King Dice!” he said in a rather goofy voice. “You can call me Mangosteen. The Boss wanted me to show you around today.” Mangosteen was a large, round man all around. Dice had seen him around before, usually kicking people out of the casino. He didn’t expect to see the Devil in person on his first day. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Devil never showed his face to him again.

Mangosteen led Dice first into the kitchen, introducing him to people he would never talk to and showing him equipment he would never use. None of the chefs spoke to them but rushed to prepare desserts to be served that night. Then Dice was shown the supply closet, showing off the mops for cleaning up spills and the brooms for chasing people with.

“If people don’t pay,” Mangosteen said in a sing-song voice, “We scare them away! I made that one up myself. The Boss really cares about the appearance of this place. Can’t have people with no money and no business here running around, right? Sometimes you gotta beat ‘em with a broom for them to get the message. Picking them up and tossing them out the door doesn’t always work the first time.”

As Dice was shown more useless objects and tools, he wondered how a guy like Mangosteen ended up working here. He certainly didn’t appear clever enough to play any card games, let alone deal in them. A lot of the casino staff seemed shady, the types to cheat in games like Dice himself. Mangosteen, on the other hand, must have been easily tricked into working for the Devil. He was big enough to be able to intimidate people and kick them out, despite his friendly appearance. For all he knew, this friendly attitude could all be a front. This all seemed like Mangosteen was just killing time, and there could be some ulterior motive. Dice wasn’t about to trust this smiley guy just yet.

Dice was led into the break room, a smaller room with a few chairs, a table, and a tattered carpet. There was a haze of smoke that was more prominent than that of the rest of the casino. In this room, he met some of the shady characters that he had expected to see working. A ballerina-like woman and a pair of dominoes broke their conversation to greet him, and a cigar-headed man shot a brief glare from across the room but said nothing. “You can come here whenever you get a break,” Mangosteen explained. “It’s usually before or after lunch, then again after dinner.”

Upon leaving the break room, the two entered a long, dim hallway. There were only a few doors in it, one being an entrance to the casino floor. Mangosteen gestured to the one opposite it. “This leads to… an empty office. The Boss said he might let someone use it someday, but for now I think he just keeps garbage in it. And at the end of the hall--” he swiveled his head in that direction, where the hall was even dimmer but a light seemed to seep out from under the door, “--that’s the Boss’s office. Only go in when he invites you, okay?”

“Sure thing,” said Dice, gazing at the door. It appeared as if the room was on fire behind it, the glow of the flames lighting the door frame. There was something unsettling about the door. The glow reminded him of the hot glow of the Devil’s eyes, and it was almost as if the eyes could see through the door and glare at Dice down the hallway. He felt himself shiver, but was also intrigued by the sensation that the frightening door gave him. He was taken out of his trance when Mangosteen laid a hand on his shoulder.

“All right,” he said, clearly not affected by the looming presence of the boss, “Last thing on the tour is the casino floor. Then you’ll get to actually do what you came here for!” He swung open the nearby door, the silence being broken by the bustling lunch crowd. Dice took one more glance down the hall before following.

\---

As the casino calmed down that night, Mangosteen entered the dim hallway and shut the door gently behind him. He let out a yawn, tired from supervising Dice all day. He seemed to catch on to his new job fairly fast, already having some casual experience. He tried to make himself look less drowsy as he neared the door at the end of the hall. Knocking carefully, he felt the heat emanating from the room.

After a few moments the door swung open on its own. Mangosteen stepped inside, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the humidity. He had been in the office many times, but it still was uncomfortable every time. But he wouldn’t dare complain to his Boss-- it was his office, after all. He just really wanted to go home after having to work extra hours today, but the Boss insisted that he give a report on the new employee. Mangosteen failed to understand why the Boss had taken a liking to him more then any of the other long-time employees. Dice was the first person in a few years to have beaten the Devil at cards. Only one had done it since Mango started working there-- and the lucky winner was killed on the spot. The fact that Dice was still alive was a shock to the staff, let alone that he was working at the casino the day after.

The Devil seemed to pay no attention to Mangosteen at first, reading over a document and scrawling some notes. He looked it over for another long, sweltering minute before setting it down, picking up a glass of red wine, and looking up at his employee. “So how’d it go?” he asked. He was attempting to sound disinterested, though anyone but Mangosteen could see right through it.

“Well, Boss,” Mangosteen began, “He did well today. We’ve already got him dealing at several different games, and he looks like he’s having a good time. I think you made a good decision with him.”

The Devil clasped his hands together, thinking. “Did he say anything about the deal?”

“No, Boss. He seemed pretty content. I don’t think he’s thought of anything yet.”

“Well, here’s to hoping that he forgets about it.” He took a sip of his wine and reclined in his chair, staring off into space.

Mangosteen stood there for a few moments in silence before asking, “Is something bothering you, Boss?”

“Eh,” the Devil replied, trying to brush it off.

“Are you worried that he’s gonna screw you over with his favor?”

“That’s-- that’s not why I’m worried about him.” Before Mangosteen could ask any more questions, he added, “Dismissed, Mango.”

Mangosteen quickly turned to leave, trying not to think too much of the Devil’s words. The Boss was usually much more confident with his words. Mango decided it must just be because he’s still embarrassed by the loss.

The moment the door was shut, the Devil sunk into his seat and let out a deep sigh, thankful that his dark fur covered up any sign of him getting red hearing about the new employee.

“This sucks.”

The Devil was not known for being merciful. So to spare Dice’s life in front of the whole casino and then hire him? Someone was going to catch on soon. Most of his employees were smarter than Mango. The truth is, he couldn’t bear to kill that pretty face that had stared smugly back at him. Something about his cool attitude, his confident smile, his mysterious eyes… attracted him, and when he looked into the man’s soul, well, that sealed the deal. He needed to have him one way or another. Killing him would be an absolute waste. Having him as an employee was a good enough compromise. The amount of money that smooth talking Dice could swindle for him… the thought made his mouth water. And maybe, if he got lucky, he could…

Clenching his fist and shutting his eyes tight, the Devil tried to force the thought out of his mind. He could get away with it for most of his employees; but with Dice? It would be far too embarrassing if he found out. He could hear that deep voice crooning to him now:  _ This is why you spared my life?  _ Absolutely pathetic.

He opened one eye to see how much wine he had left. His glass was empty. Loosening up, he reached for the bottle and contemplated refilling the glass before deciding to drink straight out of the bottle. Anything to take himself away from all of this. He downed half the remaining wine in one gulp.

Forcing himself to sit up straight again, he pulled his paperwork towards himself. His eyes glazed over the document. He was too tired and overwhelmed to focus on things much more important than the casino or pretty faces. There was a greater plan, but all these petty issues were getting in the way of it.  _ I can’t deal with all this at once, _ he thought.  _ I’m just one guy.  _ He dipped his pen in ink and scraped some words onto the paper. “One guy surrounded by a bunch of idiots,” he let himself say out loud, jamming another cigar into his teeth. He heard scattering on the floor behind him; some imps were startled by him suddenly speaking out loud. “Bunch of useless idiots,” he growled, quite a bit louder. More scattering ensued, until one imp nervously hopped over and lit its Boss’s cigar for him. He could have easily done it himself, but he wanted to feel powerful for a minute. He wouldn’t admit that the thought of Dice made him forget that feeling.

Blowing out a cloud of smoke, he resumed talking to himself, this time with his indoor voice. “Patience, Lucy, patience. It’ll work out in due time.” He let his muscles relax as he continued his paperwork. “In due time… I’ll be over it.”


	3. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After not seeing the Devil since his first night in the casino, Dice is invited to his office. Surely it is just a performance review?

King Dice hated to admit it, but he loved his new job. Every day went by relatively the same, but he got a kick out of it every time. He would watch the gullible casino-goers sit down to play cards, and talk to them as they played. If someone had good luck, he would talk them up. “Today’s your lucky day! There’s no way you can lose!” he would exclaim after dealing the cards just right. He loved seeing how much he could boost their confidence, a direct correlation to how much they bet. Sometimes it, well, just so happened that their luck would run out right after they bet big. “I was doing so well!” they would say. “Must have been just a fluke! Surely my luck hasn’t run out yet!” Dice delighted in seeing them play again and again thinking they have amazing luck only for him to take it away in the end.

Dice became friendly with a few of the other employees, but some questioned his methods. They knew that the casino was already a cash grab and frowned upon adding additional scams to the games. But those who supported Dice kept him going and drowned out anyone who disagreed. Meanwhile the customers never seemed to grasp what he was doing to them, and he became popular due to his charming and entertaining personality.

Whether from speaking to them, or hearing rumors (the casino was quite a hub for gossip), he learned quite a bit about his fellow employees. Chips Bettigan was one of the first he became acquainted with, due to him being another dealer as well as him being too loud to overlook. He was a rowdy fellow, who approached gambling from a completely different angle than Dice. Every time someone won big, he would let out a mighty “YEE-HAW!”, and Dice swore it gave him a twitch. Chips was a heavy drinker for such a skinny guy, and he rattled and clicked when he laughed.

Mangosteen, who he met on his first day, was far more tolerable. Partially because he barely saw the guy. Aside from joyfully kicking people out, he also worked in the billiards room. Dice had no idea simply because he never played billiards. Why should he? He couldn’t cheat, bluff, or strategize in it. A perfect game for that big oaf. When he wasn’t holed away by the pool tables, he often happily greeted Dice and asked about his day. He still didn’t trust him.

Pirouletta was someone he quite enjoyed talking with. She wasn’t loud, brash, or aloof. In fact she was a rather stoic figure who didn’t talk much at all. But when she did, half the time it was some witty comment just loud enough for Dice to hear. Only he knew how much of a comedian she was. Like Dice, she looked down on the casino goers who kept drinks pouring into their mouths and money pouring out of their pockets.

There was one person who Dice barely talked to. Mr. Wheezy, the cigar-headed man who seemed to glare at him on his first day, maintained that attitude towards him. He spent a lot of his time by the bar, joking around with the people that Dice and Pirouletta wouldn’t dare to get near. Another loud character, he was quite flirty with the casino goers but never seemed very successful. After all, he was quite… disgusting. His cigar smell was overwhelming, his teeth were rotten, and he spit when he spoke. So Dice was quite surprised to learn rumors of this man being the casino’s local whore. Every employee denied having slept with him, while at the same time mentioning one employee or another who supposedly has. Dice didn’t blame them; sleeping with that man seemed like some kind of act of desperation. He shuddered at the thought. The way Wheezy looked at Dice, however, was not out of lust. It was quite the opposite. He looked at him with utter distaste, as if he did something to deeply offend him before he had even come to the casino. Dice didn’t concern himself too much with it; he was popular among everyone else, so one person hating him didn’t keep him up at night.

This went on for a month or so, and Dice was getting ready to buy a new home by the sea on Isle Three. At one moment he was cleaning up after a game, musing about what kinds of furniture he could get with his next paycheck, when he glanced down at his table and noticed a piece of notepaper that seemingly appeared from nowhere. The note was written in blood-red ink, in a elegant yet hastily-written script. He picked it up and read it:

_ My office after your shift _

_ -D _

Dice clutched the note with a pang of nerves. Why did the Devil want to see him, after no sight or sound of him since the night he beat him? Was he in trouble? Was he getting jealous of his popularity? Either way, the thought of having to speak with his new Boss without a crowd of people cheering him on was enough to throw off his game the rest of his shift.

Those few remaining hours dragged on, and when it ended he rushed out as fast as possible. He took a look at himself in the bathroom before his meeting. His stress made him look more tired and disheveled than he would have liked to be. He splashed some water on his face, straightened his moustache, and tightened his suspenders before deciding that it would be more detrimental to himself to keep procrastinating. He slipped out of the bathroom and into the long hallway.

With every step down the hallway, Dice felt his heart rate increase. It was the first time he had entered that hallway since Mango had shown him around last month. He hadn’t shaken off that feeling that the door at the end had given him as it seemed to stare back at him. Today it cast that same fiery glow in the dark hallway. It emanated heat as he moved closer. He tried to convince himself to have the same confidence as that first night meeting the Devil, but things were different. This wasn’t some chance meeting anymore; this was a professional environment. The Devil was his boss now.

Trying to compose himself, Dice stood in front of the door, unsure if the sweat was coming from his nerves or the heat coming from behind the door. He wouldn’t be surprised if the Devil had finally decided to kill him or take his soul by force. Should he just turn around and leave forever? No, he couldn’t. He was too proud to act all scared now. When he finally lifted his hand up to knock, the door opened as if it was waiting for him. He didn’t enter right away; the surprise of the door threw off his attempts to keep his cool and he was, ironically, frozen.

“Come on, Dice, get in here,” game an annoyed growl from inside the office. It startled enough for Dice to snap out of it and enter the office, with the door closing behind him.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?” Dice said after managing to compose himself a second time. But the boss had already caught him off guard.

The Devil was reclining sideways in his chair, papers strewn about, gripping a cigar in his claws. He let out a bitter chuckle. “Goodness, you’re so fake,” he teased. “You think you're so cool and confident in front of everybody, but you come in here and you’re a total mess. Just wanted to embarrass me that night, didn’t you?”

“To be fair,” Dice argued, “I assumed that I was in trouble. You  _ are _ the Devil, after all.” Being challenged always made him feel more confident. Rather than become flustered or nervous when acting defensive, he tended to be more serious and firm. He wasn’t going to take any insults lightly, even in a situation like this.

“Well it’s your lucky day, Dice,” the Devil said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “You’re not in trouble. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Sit down.” He motioned towards a chair. Dice dragged it closer to his Boss’s desk and took a seat. Not about to get comfortable, he sat up straight as a board, and close to the edge of the chair.

“You’ve been doing well so far,” the Devil continued, looking Dice’s posture up and down. “Been making me a lot of extra money, making people want to play more by being all charming and such.” He gestured with his cigar as he spoke.

Dice wasn’t sure where this was going. He adjusted himself in his seat and tried to pull on his pants without looking obvious. Though he felt relieved for not being in trouble, the humid air in the office made him uncomfortable. “Well, thank you, I suppose.”

The Devil glanced at some of the papers on his desk. “So I’ve been working on something lately. I’ve been getting busy with a lot of other… projects, so I’m thinking I might need to make the casino take a backseat. Now, instead of closing it or anything, I’ve been planning on appointing a manager. I’m still the owner, but I need someone to keep people in line when I can’t. That’s where you come in.”

“You… want me to be the manager? Even though I just started here?”

“Not quite. You see, I have a few candidates in mind. But you’re doing so well, you’ve just become one of them.” He smiled a little, pointing at Dice with his cigar. His teeth shined in the fiery light.

Dice didn’t know whether to feel honored or uneasy. This seemed far too sudden, it must be a trick. Then again, the sudden job offer turned out to not be a trick, so he didn’t know what to believe. “So what do I need to do?” he said warily.

“Well,” The Devil sat up and leaned on his desk, making straight eye contact with Dice, his eyes appearing to glow red and gold. “I need to decide who I trust the most in that position. So I’d like to get to know you better. Did you have any plans for tonight?”

Aside from perhaps window shopping, Dice had nothing on his schedule. He was certainly intrigued by the whole situation. “None.”

“Excellent,” The Devil grinned. “Then we can take care of that now. Care for a drink?”

“Drinking on the job, eh?” Dice joked, but he accepted and his boss poured each of them a glass of wine, inviting Dice to pull his chair up closer to the desk. He obliged and allowed himself to be a bit more comfortable in his seat. “So what do you want to know about me?”

“Everything,” replied the Devil, clasping his claws together. “You never had a proper application or interview. I’ve gathered a lot about you from your actions, but that still doesn’t give me the whole picture. Where are you from, Dice?”

Dice took a sip of wine and relaxed a little. “Well, I’m not from Inkwell. I’m from a family of people that love gambling and gaming. But I moved here because I wanted a new challenge.”

“Looks like you accomplished that pretty quickly then, eh?” The Devil was maintaining his gaze at Dice, who was avoiding eye contact for longer than a second at a time.

“I suppose so. But I guess this job is another new challenge.”

“It is indeed. Are you enjoying it?”

“To be honest, I thought I wouldn’t, but I do.”

“You like lying, cheating, ripping people off?”

Dice was thrown off by that blunt question. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds… bad,” He let out a nervous chuckle. “But gambling is an inherently bad thing, isn’t it?”

“Look who you’re talking to,” The Devil made a wide gesture. “If you’re worried about doing something bad, you’re in the wrong place. But I can respect your practices. You’re an interesting guy, Dice. I’ve had a lot of employees, but you’re something else.”

Dice felt a bit flattered by all of his Boss’s compliments, but tried to shrug them off as to not let his guard down. For all he knew, the Devil could be trying to soften him up and gain his trust for his own gain. Nothing he said would ever get him to trust him, he decided, no matter how charming he tried to act.

“You remind me a bit of myself, you know,” the Devil added, nonchalantly swirling his wine.

That gave Dice a chill down his spine. The Devil comparing him to the likes of himself? “Well, I wouldn't say that,” he argued.

The Devil smirked. “I don’t mean you’re the epitome of evil or anything. I mean that you’re clever, Dice. You know what you want, and you don’t play nice to get it.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose you may be right.” Dice admitted that he didn’t live by any specific moral code. In his life, playing fair and being nice never got him anywhere. Still, being complimented by the king of Hell like this was… a bit unsettling.

“Want some more?” The Devil interrupted his thoughts.

“Huh.. what?” Dice was confused until he realized that his Boss was talking about his wine. He hadn’t even noticed that he had already finished his glass. “Oh, yes please.” He held out his glass and the Devil filled it to the brim. He then refilled his own. Dice watched as he drank, his forked tongue lapping up the wine as he sloppily gulped it down. Seeing this, Dice thought that they really weren’t anything alike. Despite his taste in drinks and furniture, he was messy, aggressive, unkempt, and a bit smelly, much more so than Dice was even in his most private hours. Dice couldn’t bear to go out and be seen without looking his best, dressing well even just for a short errand. The Devil didn’t even wear clothes, not like he needed to over all that fur. Aside from their questionable morals, they looked out of place in the same room together.

After noticing that Dice was staring at him, the Devil put down his drink and looked around, as if another conversation topic was hiding somewhere in the room. His sly expression had dropped.

Dice decided to break the silence this time. “So how about yourself, Boss?” he joked. “Where are you from?”

The Devil smirked again, finding Dice amusing now that he was calming down. “Well, I’m from a place called the Fiery Pits of Hell. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it. You might get a free trip there someday.”

They joked around like this for quite a while. Dice had to admit that his Boss wasn’t so scary-- if he liked you, that is. He thought himself silly for panicking so much before the meeting, but he still wasn’t going to let his guard down and trust the Devil, even after they finished the entire bottle of wine and opened another.

\---

The Devil opened his eyes, only for them to be met with a sheet of paper. He groggily sat up in his chair and peeled the paper off his face.  _ Crap, I never finished that paperwork last night,  _ he thought to himself. He considered himself quite the drinker, but he usually didn’t drink that much in one sitting. Rubbing his eyes, he examined the mess on his desk. Crumpled paper, a broken pen, a half-smoked cigar, two empty bottles of wine, Dice’s hand--

_ Crap. _

Dice’s arm was sprawled across the desk, and his head flat next to it. He was out cold; they both must have passed out without even realizing. And now Dice was asleep in his office.

The Devil checked the time. 10 AM. They were out for quite a while. What to do? He couldn’t take Dice home; he would have to come back to work soon anyway. Should he wake him up? He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Dice’s breathing was gentle as his head rested on the desk, his limber body arched forward--

He quickly turned away before his thoughts went too far, feeling himself heat up.  _ Not now, not now,  _ he thought. He tried shuffling through his paperwork to keep his mind off of it, holding the paper in front of Dice to block his vision. But with every breath that came from his sleeping employee, distracting himself became harder and harder. After finding himself reading the same sentence over and over, he decided that this was a lost cause. He set the papers down and let out a sigh.

He was taking a big risk, knowing he could wake up any moment, but he couldn’t control himself any longer.  _ Why does he have to be so… handsome?,  _ he thought, letting his hand run through his fur down his body.  _ He’s lucky that he thinks beating me at cards is the most embarrassing thing he’s done to me.  _ He stared at Dice’s relaxed face, with his long eyelashes and flushed cheeks. His makeup was a little smudged, faint streaks of purple and black by his closed eyes. His mouth was agape, plush lips surrounding teeth as smooth and white as his skin seemed to be. The Devil’s shaft was absolutely throbbing when his hand pushed through his fur to reach it. He tried to be as quiet as possible as to not awaken Dice, and covered his mouth with his other hand. Dice stirred a little and let out a little mumble, but didn’t wake up. Upon hearing it, the Devil had to muffle his reaction.

His own hands were rough and broken; Dice’s skin appeared to be much softer and smoother. Those hands were kept safe and clean inside gloves all day, after all. He wished Dice’s hand was the one getting him off, stroking ever so gently and crooning deeply into his ear. They would take it nice and slow, unlike the urgency with which the Devil was pumping himself. His breathing grew faster and louder through his fingers as Dice’s remained steady and unaware. He wished that he didn’t have to be embarrassed and Dice could be awake for him, that he could just grab Dice and pin him to his desk and--

There was a knock at the door.

The Devil almost didn’t bury his face in his arm in time to stifle a surprised moan as he finished. He wouldn’t dare open the door. He hadn’t invited anyone, anyway. Even if he had, no one could possibly see him in this state. It would ruin him. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he hissed, just loud enough to be heard outside the door, “What?”

“Bad time, boss?” said a deep, scratchy voice from the other side.

“Y-yes!” the boss replied, trying to contain himself. But he recognized the voice. It was Mr. Wheezy, his other candidate for manager, who was his only choice until Dice came along. He had completely forgotten; he  _ did _ invite him. The day before, he had told him to meet with him the next morning to discuss Dice becoming his competition for the position. Now the next morning has come along, and he didn’t anticipate this accidental sleepover.

“I’ll wait,” Mr. Wheezy said. “I’d suggest you hurry up, though, Boss. I’ve got things to do and Dice isn’t here yet to help out. He’s usually quite punctual.”

“In a minute, Wheezy,” the Devil growled. He had little patience for the cigar man, and he didn’t trust him, either. He might be one of the worst possible people to walk in on such a scene.

To make matters worse, Dice was waking up.

The Devil scrambled through his desk drawer to find something to clean himself up with. Dice opening his eyes to see his boss with sticky fur is not a good look for him. Grabbing a dirty rag, he wiped up as best he could, though it was a pain to get it all out of his fur. He hastily shoved his dick back into his fur and tried to act casual when Dice lifted his head.

“B-boss?” he said, groggily. He had no idea where he was at first. His first thought is that he died and went to Hell and the Devil was here to greet him.

“Morning, Dice,” the Devil said with a fake grin on his face. “Looks like you fell asleep here last night.”

“I… I did? Oh dear. How much did we drink?”

“Quite a bit.”

“Do I get the job?” Dice sat up in his seat. The memory of the night before was slightly coming back, but he couldn’t recall anything after the fourth glass of wine.

“Not quite yet, Dice. I’m still figuring that out.” The Devil tried to hide the rag under the desk. He wanted Dice to leave as soon as possible so he could deal with Wheezy quicker. “It’s almost time for your shift.”

“With all due respect, Boss,” Dice said as he straightened himself out, “I don’t feel very well.”

The Devil let out a quick, exasperated sigh. He didn’t have time for arguing. “Fine, go home if you want, but be back in by dinner time. You can leave out the other exit if you want.” He gestured towards a door on the far side of the office. “That leads straight outside.” He didn’t want Dice to open the office door and come face to face with Wheezy.

“Thank you, Boss,” Dice said, getting up to leave. “See you tonight, I suppose?”

“I’ll decide when I want to see you and when I don’t,” the Devil snapped.

“Noted.” Dice made his way to the door and slipped out.

The Devil sighed again, this time in relief. That was way too close. Thank goodness Dice didn’t seem to suspect anything, either. If he wasn’t hungover, he would have picked up on enough details to see right through him. He checked himself to make sure he looked presentable, and let the door open for Wheezy. Hopefully he didn’t suspect a thing, either.

The cigar-headed man entered the room with a sly smile on his face. “So, Boss,” he began, “What’s this about a competitor you wanted to tell me about?”


	4. Ulterior Motives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going smoothly as Dice awaits his promotion, but then he has an encounter with the intimidating Mr. Wheezy.

A few days passed since the sleepover incident. Dice spoke to no one about it. He wasn’t sure if getting blackout drunk with his boss helped or hindered his chances of getting a promotion. Did he act cool or like a total idiot? He could have said something stupid and only the Devil would know it. Unless he had no recollection of the night either. It sure did change his opinion of the guy, though. He was less scared of him than before, and he thought for a moment that he was even a bit nice. No, nice wasn't the right word. He was decent to be around, in the least. The type of guy he would enjoy drinking with more often. Dice secretly hoped he would have more nights like that if he got the manager position. Sure, he was the Devil himself, but a friend is a friend.

Everything in the casino continued as usual since that night. The only difference is that Dice swore he felt like he was being watched. He waved it off as nerves, due to feeling pressured to perform better to get the promotion. But he couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling that penetrated his mind during his entire shifts that week. He assumed his boss must be watching him somehow, especially after he received another invitation to his office similar to the last one during his shift five days later.

Upon seeing the note, his nerves turned to relief. This confirmed his suspicions that the Boss was watching his performance, rather than some other mysterious force looming all week. In fact he was almost comforted by the thought of being watched over. He knew that the Devil liked him, even if he didn’t exactly admit it. After all, he’d spared his life and soul thus far, even though he had many a chance. A conversation with Chips during a lull in the evening made him even more confident in the Devil’s opinions towards him.

“Does the Boss ever take you out for drinks?” Dice asked Chips, leaning on the bar. Chips was seated and was on his second drink of his break, absentmindedly pushing some crumbs around with his finger.

“Not really,” Chips replied. “Sure, he’s come down to this here bar and have a drink with us… rarely. I ain’t been anywhere near his office unless I’m bein’ yelled at, though.” He gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed the glass down. “But you? I think he’s taken a real likin’ to you, Dice.”

“You think so?” Dice felt himself tense up a little at Chips’s tone.

Chips’s lazy smile dropped. “Err, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that he, uh… favors you? Naw, that still sounds wrong.” He scratched his head, trying to find the right words that don’t imply the wrong ideas about his boss. “He sees potential in ya, that’s fer sure. He wouldn’t be friendly unless he wanted something besides just dirty work.”

Dice was pleased with that answer. He didn’t know if Chips knew about the promotion or not, but what he said made it sound like he was bound to get it. And he was tickled by the thought of the Dice buttering him up because he liked him more than everyone else. He didn’t know what was so great about him, but he must have been doing something right.

The rest of the work day went by smoothly as Dice filled his head with thoughts of his promotion. Casino manager is a title he decided would look very good on him. Two hours before the meeting and still riding on these pleasant thoughts, he took a quick bathroom break to make sure he was nice and fresh for the remainder of the day.

Dice hummed to himself as he used the toilet. Even as he heard someone else enter the bathroom, he didn’t even feel embarrassed.  _ The Devil’s about to give me a promotion!  _ He thought.  _ Why should I care what anyone thinks! I’ll be in charge of these fools soon, anyway! _

Upon flushing and opening the stall door, Dice barely had time to react to the figure in his path before he was shoved back against the toilet.

He blinked a few times and recovered from the initial shock. The breath was knocked out of him and he took a moment to catch it before lifting his head up. Looking directly into his eyes was Mr. Wheezy, the cigar-headed man. They never really talked to each other; even if he hated him for some unknown reason, what excuse could he have to attack him in the bathroom?

“Who do you think you are, blockhead?” Mr. Wheezy growled, ashes flying from his head. His voice was deep and scratchy, rumbling through his entire body. It was the kind of voice that had a texture to it, and it was less than pleasing to listen to.

“Wh-- what are you talking about?” Dice struggled to speak; Mr. Wheezy’s hand was now clasped around his throat. The fingers felt light his voice did; rough and unpleasant.

“Don’t play stupid,” Mr. Wheezy tightened his grip.”I know you’ve been talking to that old rat.” He spat a little as he spoke, and his breath was awful. Dice felt like he would pass out from the smell before he did from being choked. It was a mix of cigars and alcohol, as everyone in the casino smelled, the difference being that Wheezy clearly didn’t brush his yellow, rotting teeth.

“I-- I swear I don’t--hrk-- know what you’re talking about,” Dice managed to say.

Mr. Wheezy looked at him up and down, examining him for a few seconds before loosening his grip and dropping Dice to the floor. “You really got no idea, do you?” He let out a sharp sigh. “That’s typical of him. Well, I’ll have you know that you’re stealing my job.”

Dice coughed a few times before catching his breath. He had no room to stand; he was forced to lean against the toilet. Disgusting. He had to hold himself back from vomiting due to the whole sensation. “The manager job?” he finally said. “You’re the other candidate he told me about?”

“Sure am,” Mr. Wheezy replied, sounding extremely irritated. He stood up straight and adjusted his back with a loud crack. “And I was almost a shoe-in for that job until you came along.”

"It’s not like that’s my fault,” Dice retorted. “I can’t help if he happens to like me.”

“He likes you?” Mr. Wheezy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “And I suppose he’s nice to you, too, eh?”

“Well, sometimes, he is, yes. When you get to know him.”

“Get to know him?!” Mr. Wheezy raised his voice. “Let me let you in on a little secret, Dice,” He picked him up by his shirt and pinned him to the wall, knocking the wind out of him again. “He’s only doing all this because he wants to bone you!”

“He-- wha--?” It was the last thing he expected to hear, and he had no response for it.

“Listen!” Wheezy was shouting at this point. “The Devil doesn’t ‘like’ people. He isn’t ‘nice’ to anyone. You know how I almost got that promotion? I clawed my way up from the dirt! He never said a single nice word to me! He never liked me! I worked hard for years! And then you--” He hit Dice hard in the gut with his knee-- “YOU came along, with your pretty-ass face, and that rat decides that you’re on equal playing field with me! He could care less about how good you are at cards or how hard you work! He just wants someone by his side to bone every night!”

“Th-- that’s not true,” Dice refused to believe it, although had no proof against it. Of all the things that he feared the Devil would do with him, this was not one he expected or believed. The Devil could do anything he wanted-- surely he wouldn’t need to go through something like this just to bone someone? So he was certain with himself that the manager promotion on its own was all very real. But he could understand why Mr. Wheezy was the other candidate for the position-- he was absolutely ruthless. Definitely more similar to the Devil than himself.

“Believe what you want, Dice,” Wheezy continued, “But I’ve seen this all before. He’s canceled plans, dropped people, broken promises… all just because he’s horny! And if you don’t want that from him?” He let out a bitter laugh. “You really think he’d have any other reason to keep you around? I’ve seen him get close to people like you before, then they’d disappear without a trace. So if you really want to end up like that, by all means, take my job. But you’re not gonna be the manager of anything but his dick. You think you know the Devil? You don’t know a damn thing.” He dropped Dice to the ground again, and this time he was done. “Think about it.” He said before leaving the bathroom.

Dice sat in a heap on the floor for a few minutes, still in shock. He had no idea what to make of this situation. He knew not to trust the Devil… but should he trust Mr. Wheezy? Was he just trying to scare him, or was what he said really true?

Dice managed to stand up and stumble over to the sink. His gut ached from the blow of Mr. Wheezy’s knee. He wasn’t a fighter at all, and his body was quite sensitive to pain and injury. He looked in the mirror, and his appearance matched how he felt. There was no way he was presentable for the casino, let alone his boss. If he didn’t go to his meeting, there was no way he would get the promotion. But did he really want it anymore? Even if Dice was qualified, was it fair for him to take the position that Mr. Wheezy had been trying to get for years? He had trouble believing that this was all an elaborate scheme by the Devil just for sex. Sex with his boss was the last thing that Dice wanted… right?

Feeling disgustingly sweaty, Dice washed his face as he pondered his options. He could go to the meeting, tell his boss what Mr. Wheezy did, and get the promotion. But would that anger the hot-headed man? He really didn’t want to get beat up again. The other outcome would be Mr. Wheezy’s warning being true, and Dice could very well end up “mysteriously disappearing”. He shuddered at the thought. The last option would be to go home and never come back. Let Mr. Wheezy get the promotion, don’t have to worry about anything going wrong. Take the money he’s made and move somewhere else, find another island, another casino, another job. Never have to worry about the stress and uncertainty of dealing with the Devil ever again. He looked himself in the eye through the mirror.  _ What have I gotten myself into?,  _ he thought.  _ Risking my life working for the Devil. I… I gotta get out of here. _

After making sure he looked as presentable as possible, Dice left the bathroom. He moved as fast as he could without looking conspicuous, striding past the bar, past the tables, past the front desk and straight through the front doors. Unbeknownst to him, Mr. Wheezy watched from afar, grinning to himself the whole time.

\---

The next two hours passed, and the Devil sat at his desk preparing for Dice to arrive for his meeting. He had assessed his performance since their last meeting; Dice had been working harder than usual, surely to secure his promotion to manager. The Devil wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but he was going to get that position all along. Mr. Wheezy may have been the hardest worker in the casino, but his fiery attitude was not the best image for the place. All the visitors loved Dice; he didn’t want Mr. Wheezy to scare them all away.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He rushed to pull out a bottle of wine from his desk, smooth out his fur, spray some cologne, and sit up straight before allowing the door to open. To his surprise and dismay, Mr. Wheezy was standing in the doorway, looking smug as usual. Not in the charming way Dice did, but in a way that did nothing but piss him off.

“Afternoon, Boss,” he said, letting himself in.

“You weren’t called,” the Devil growled.

“I’m well aware of that, sir, but I’ve got some bad news to deliver. Mr. Dice seems to have quit.”

“What?!” the Devil hissed, standing up and slamming the desk. “How could he have quit? What happened?”

“Well,” Mr. Wheezy said, with a tone of despair, “Seems like it was just too much pressure for him. He must have been scared to be the manager, and scared of you. I saw how nervous he was, but before I could talk to him he just… ran out.” He cast his eyes away dramatically. Oh, how tragic.

The Devil, ignoring Wheezy’s theatrics, felt anger and panic rising within him. This came out of nowhere. Dice was a hard worker, optimistic about his job, and seemed not to be scared anymore. Their da-- meeting went wonderfully, right? Was he feeling like this the whole time? Just looking for the right time to escape? The thought of never seeing Dice again made him shake. He hated the way this made him feel, for more than one reason.

“I know it’s sudden, Boss,” Mr. Wheezy continued. “But I’m here if you need me.”

“I guess…” The Devil said, uneasy, sitting back down. “I guess you’re back to being the only candidate again.” He had to force the words out of his teeth.

Mr. Wheezy tried to hold back excitement. “I suppose, Boss. I’ll try my best, as usual. When do we get started?”

“Not now,” The Devil snapped suddenly. It caught Mr. Wheezy off guard and made him jump a little. “Dismissed.”

“But--”

“Dismissed. Worry about it tomorrow.”

Mr. Wheezy hesitated before slipping out the door. He let himself eagerly grin and chuckle when he was far away enough from the office.

The Devil, meanwhile, was able to let his emotions out after slamming the door. He stood up and started pacing, anxiously scratching the fur around his horns. He tended to do this when extremely stressed, irritating the skin and pulling fur out. But this time he was stressed for more than he was comfortable with. First of all, he was clearly upset that his designated new manager had just walked out on him and left him with Wheezy. But on its own, that fact mildly pissed him off at best. The reason he was so mad, why he was dropping tufts of fur to the floor, why he could feel hot tears forming in his eyes-- that reason was real, raw, and painful. The thought of never being able to experience what he wanted so badly. The thought of no one as handsome or charming coming by the casino for who knows how many more years. And the thought of losing someone that he just might have…

_ Respected.  _ He thought before he would let any other words enter his mind.  _ I actually kinda respected the guy.  _ Enough to trust him with being a manager. He had no respect for Wheezy, nor most of the staff for that matter. He owned their souls, after all. As for Dice, he couldn’t get a hold of his soul. No way to drag him back or keep him trapped. A man with more dignity than the other sleazy casino employees. But now? After leaving due to nerves? He hated to admit that the respect was withering away, and was regretting letting it build up in the first place.

“This is what happens, Lucy,” he began to reason with himself out loud again. “This is what happens when you let yourself get carried away, with, with… UGH!” In one swift motion he knocked everything off his desk. Papers flew, ink splashed, and bottles smashed. He didn’t care. This time he wasn’t going to hold back his tantrums. He just wanted to let it run its course until he tired himself out. So he proceeded to yell, to throw things, to punch and scratch, catching many unfortunate imps in his path. He did so until his muscles tired out, and then he started drinking what wine he hadn’t smashed. Anything to make him forget this awful feeling. He fell asleep in the corner of the room, soaked in a puddle of wine and tears.


	5. Smoke 'Em Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost time for Wheezy's promotion, and he celebrates by getting a little too close with his Boss.

Sunlight broke through the window and directly into Dice’s eyes, waking him up. He opened one eye and mumbled to himself incoherently, irritated. This was his third day since walking out of the casino, and he found himself sleeping in later and later. He had barely done anything since quitting, save for counting his money and failing to come up with ideas on where to go from here. In short, he felt absolutely drained. Sure, he was quite lazy and sloppy at home, but this was a new low for him. He wouldn’t check himself in the mirror (he hadn’t taken his makeup off since the last time he went to work), or sing along to the radio. He was drinking twice as much as usual, seeing as he had nothing better to do at night. There were no other casinos in the area besides the Devil’s, but he didn’t want to set foot in one for quite a while anyway. The exchange between him and Mr. Wheezy was still echoing in his brain, and he had no idea why. He had been in more stressful situations before, right? Why was this bothering him so much? He wanted nothing more than to simply push the thoughts away and move on; he was sure he made the right decision. Being safe at home, even if he was at a low for a bit, was much better than getting killed by the Devil.

After crawling out of his covers, he got himself dressed, much less so than usual. An old shirt and underpants was enough to cover himself, he decided. He fixed himself a quick breakfast-- burnt toast-- and went outside to eat and smoke. The sun was high in the sky, and there were a few clouds floating up above. He watched them go by, convincing himself that this was much better than spending his time in that dark, musty, stressful casino all day. Even though he was mentally drained, being out of work definitely helped him physically relax. He never got much time to stretch and take a deep breath in the casino.

Over these days he managed to convince himself that he was fine, even if it meant suppressing the thought that he may have left behind his only friend.

\---

Mr. Wheezy stared at himself in the mirror, grinning widely with his yellow teeth. He was admiring his new suit that he got after his promotion to manager. Usually appearing rather unkempt and dirty, this crisp new outfit didn’t quite match his face. He had recently completed his training for the position, and it was finally the day where he would officially take the role and move into his new office.

“Are you done yet?”

The Devil tapped his desk impatiently. His fur was ruffled and he could barely keep his eyes open. Mr. Wheezy had been standing in front of the mirror for ten minutes. “Just because you’re manager now doesn’t give you permission to come in here whenever you want.”

Mr. Wheezy spun around to face his boss. “No worries, Boss,” he said. “As long as I get some full length mirrors in my new office, I won’t need to bother you no more.” He glanced backwards to check out the reflection of his behind (as if he had one). The Devil rolled his eyes. What an ugly sight.

“You seem stressed, Boss,” Wheezy continued. He stepped over and planted one hand on the desk. “Lucky for you, you won’t have to worry about a damn thing once I take charge of this place. It’ll be running smooth as Hell! I, uh, assume you run Hell pretty smoothly, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The Devil wasn’t really paying attention. It had now been over a week since Dice left, and his hopes of him returning dwindled every day. He didn’t believe it for a second at first, that Dice actually quit, but he had to accept the truth soon. As much as Mr. Wheezy got on every last one of his nerves, he was the most qualified for the job now. He wished more than anything to just smite him on the spot, but his other projects could be put off no longer. He had no choice but to put Wheezy in charge of the casino so he could forget about it for a bit and keep it up and running. Maybe when he got everything over with and could afford to focus on the casino again, he would have a chance to torture Wheezy all he liked. That idea made his mouth water a little.

“Are you coming or what?”

“Huh?” The Devil didn’t even realize that he was spacing out. Mr. Wheezy was leaning over his desk, a bit too close for comfort. Wheezy’s breath made him wince.

“You all right, boss?” he said. “We’re going onto the floor now. Celebrating my promotion, remember? You look like you need a few drinks, anyway.”

“I… I’m fine,” Wheezy had insisted they throw a party for him. The Boss wasn’t going to object if it would make him get out of his office for a few hours. But after agreeing and starting preparations, Wheezy practically begged him to come out and join as well. So much for some alone time. He had spent all day dreading it, but was hoping that he could get out of it last minute. “I’m not feeling well,” he added, resting his head on his desk. It wasn’t a complete lie; he felt drained and had a massive headache. “You go on ahead.”

“Nonsense!” Wheezy said, spit flying out of his mouth. He stepped around the desk, further encroaching on the Devil’s personal space. “I’m not going out there without my lovely Boss. You gave me this job, anyway. It’s only fair you get to join the party.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” the Devil said sarcastically. “Just go. Have fun or whatever. I’ll be all right.” He was too exhausted to yell, so he just pulled himself in closer and hoped he would be left alone. But knowing Wheezy, it wasn’t going to happen. He growled as he felt Wheezy place a hand on his shoulder, fingers twisting into his fur. “What’re you--”

“Now, now, Boss,” Wheezy crooned. His low voice made the Devil’s ear twitch. “Calm down. Loosen up.” He placed his other hand on the respective shoulder and proceeded to push and pull on the fur and skin.

“A massage? Really?” He should have kicked Wheezy out right then and there for touching him without permission. But he was too exhausted to fight back. Wheezy already had him pinned against his desk, hands pressed into his shoulders.

“Just tryna help, Boss.” Wheezy licked his lips as he stared down at his boss’s back. “You’ve been stressed. You deserve it.” His knuckles cracked as he gripped those strong, firm shoulder muscles.

The Devil would never admit it, but Wheezy was damn good with his hands. He could already feel his muscles relaxing as those grimy hands worked against his shoulders and neck. With his eyes closed, he could pretend that it wasn’t the foul Wheezy making him feel so good. Oh, if only it was Dice, with those silky gloved hands twisting his fur. He could only imagine how powerful those lean arms could be.

“Lower,” he accidentally let slip as a harsh whisper. He had an awful knot in his back that he was desperate to have soothed. He didn’t care if Wheezy would be responding as he fantasized him to be Dice. He was aware, however, of just how pleased he let himself sound, and Wheezy caught on too.

Wheezy exhaled in amusement. “What’s that, Boss?” he teased, having clearly heard him. He knew had his boss in a good place right now, and he wanted to play around.

The Devil gritted his teeth but repeated himself anyway. “Can… can you go lower. Get my back.” He arched himself forward over his desk as to give Wheezy easier access. Wheezy obliged and slid his hands lower. His thick fingers searched for the hard and aching parts of his boss’s back, pushing gently, then harder. Again he took hold of the fur and dug his hands deep into the skin. He smirked when he heard a stifled groan of satisfaction. He continued to work on that sweet spot until the Devil was jelly under his hands.

“You like that, Boss?” Wheezy asked, moving his hands a bit lower.

“Mm.” He was still too proud to admit that he loved it. But they both knew by now that he couldn’t hide it, so he just let himself lay there and take it. He wondered if his time with Wheezy as manager would be more tolerable if he made him give massages every day. Even if Wheezy was the one causing most of his headache, he sure as hell knew how to get rid of it. In this state he could probably fall asleep, something he never did in the middle of the day like this. But he had never felt so relaxed. His tongue slid out of his mouth as Wheezy trailed his hands slowly and firmly all the way down to his tail, which twitched happily on contact.

Wheezy smirked, greatly entertained by how quickly his boss was throwing all dignity out the window. He knew how good his massages could be. He never could have slept with as many people as he had without his magic fingers. It was enough to make people with standards tolerate him, and desperate people to be all his for the night. His powerful, tactful hands were his sole charm point. But luckily, they were enough even for the stubborn Devil. Wheezy lowered his head so he was practically breathing down the Devil’s neck. His lips were nearly brushing the fur on the back of his head. He had to be careful not to let drool drip onto him. It was a good thing that the office was so hot, or else it would have been obvious how much he was heating up himself. He was so close, so close--

“Wheezy.”

“Huh?” Wheezy’s head shot up.

“Are you done?” The Devil’s voice was still muffled in his arms. Wheezy didn’t even realize that he had stopped his massage when he lost himself in thought. In fact, his hands had pulled back up and were hovering dangerously close to his boss’s chest. His brain told him to withdraw his hands, but he couldn’t let himself move. Not after coming this far.

“A-are you all set, Boss?” Wheezy asked in reply, his voice wavering. “I’m done if you’re done.” He knew he had a party to get to, but to have his hands finally on his boss like this… he was willing to blow it off if they decided to stay.

The Devil stretched his fingers and toes. “We should be getting to that party, right?” He leaned forward a little, and his chest brushed up against Wheezy’s nervous hands. “As much as I don’t want to. But at least I feel decent enough now.”

“Of- of course, Boss.” Just that slight touch told him how firm the Devil’s chest was. It was muscular, hard beneath the soft fur. Oh, how he wanted to grip and squeeze it. A chest massage would be lovely, wouldn’t it?

He tried not to let his thoughts run away with him, or else the Devil would be feeling something else on his back in a minute. Darting his eyes across the Boss’s desk, he searched for something to help him stall this moment and distract his mind. He spotted a stack of documents in one corner. The paper looked worn and distressed, and they were folded up to hide their contents.

“What’s this?” Wheezy asked, reluctantly lifting his hands from the Devil’s chest and using them to reach for the papers. He had barely lifted them off the desk before they were snatched aggressively from him.

“The hell?” the Devil snapped, annoyed. “Hands off.” He gripped the documents tightly, further distressing the paper, while also trying not to bore claw holes through it.

“Come on, Boss,” Wheezy pressed. “You think you can make me manager and still keep things hidden from me?” He leaned over the Devil and examined the first sheet in the Devil’s hands. “SOUL CONTRACT”, it read, and presumably every single worn paper behind it as well.

“Ah, this brings me back,” Wheezy said, letting out a calm sigh as if he was recalling a pleasant memory. He lost count of how many years had passed since he signed that thing. “Don’t happen to have mine in there, do ya?”

“I might,” The Devil pulled the documents away as if Wheezy’s eyes were going to snatch them up again and take his soul back. “But I don’t trust you anywhere near it.” He flattened the stack of papers on the desk in front of him as best as he could. The edges stubbornly curled up anyway. Both men silently eyed the one on top, now clearly visible. “KING DICE” was written boldly across the top. It wasn’t signed.

“Thought you promised him you wouldn’t take it,” Wheezy said.

“I’d find a way,” He flashed a glance up at Wheezy. “You know that. I’d get it somehow.”

“Too bad he left,” Wheezy said, taking a few steps away from the desk. His eyes were drawn to the old, dark paintings on the office wall. “Probably knew you had something like that planned.”

“Don’t remind me,” the Devil growled. He put a hand to his forehead.

“You could have just taken it, ya know,” Wheezy said, without turning back to face the Devil. He procured a cigar, examined it as if he was looking in a mirror, and lit it. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

The Devil knew that Wheezy was smart. He didn’t get the promotion for nothing. Unlike much of the staff, he wasn’t some brainless, clueless lackey. Sure, he was a pathetic shell of a man when it came right down to it, but he had a brain behind that ugly mug. And he knew when his boss wasn’t acting right. But he couldn’t see right through him, could he? They both knew that he absolutely could. Those wide, sunken eyes looked at him as if to say,  _ “I know what you’re thinking. I know how you feel about him. But I know you better than him. I’ll be here forever, and he’s gone.” _

“I don’t know,” the Devil said nonetheless. “I have respect for the guy, I suppose. Enough to stick to a bet, at least. Can’t say that about everyone.”

Wheezy turned to look his his boss. “How ‘bout me? You respect me, don’t ya?”

The Devil lifted his head and made solid, chilling eye contact with Wheezy. “No, I don’t.” he said bluntly. He wasn’t about to let Wheezy tear him down. His nagging questions, his magic hands-- none of it was going to get to him. A little sweet talk wasn’t enough to get the Devil to respect someone like that.

Wheezy’s smile dropped, but he wouldn’t say he was surprised. He blew out a smoke ring before speaking. “Fair enough. So how about that party?”

“Yes,” the Devil answered immediately. “I need a drink. Or seven.” He was relieved that Wheezy stopped the tension so he wouldn’t have to himself. Peeling himself out of his chair, he motioned for Wheezy to follow. They headed to the casino floor without another word.

The party was already well underway even before the guest of honor arrived. Half of the guests didn’t even know who Wheezy was, and the half that did weren’t very fond of him. But a party is a party, and everyone was taking advantage of it. Even the employees were able to enjoy themselves.

Wheezy stopped to talk with the first people that greeted him, but the Devil made a beeline for the bar, pushing people aside as he went. No one greeted him, but stared at him tensely. Their looks of fear and distaste fueled him; it made him feel powerful. He let himself get too vulnerable in front of Wheezy, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else know that he was breaking down. 

As he slumped over the bar, Martini handed him his usual, already prepared. He had downed half of it in one gulp before looking up at her before she went to serve someone else. “I’m gonna need about ten of these,” he said, and she nodded before continuing her work.

The Devil watched everyone milling about, having conversations that he could care less about. A few times, people would shoot glances at him, presumably talking about him, but no one approached him. Why would anyone want to? They were all terrified of him. Even though they knew quite well that they were in his establishment, and giving him all their money, they didn’t want to have any business with him. The whole lot of them were hypocrites, loving to spend their days there and watch others lose their souls, but wouldn’t dare to risk being in that position themselves.

He was about to start his sixth drink when Mr. Wheezy and Mangosteen approached him, hooting and hollering. They plopped down at the bar on either side of him. He groaned a little, pulling his arms close to his body.

“Hey, Boss!” Wheezy yelled. “How’re those drinks treating ya?” He clearly had ordered a few of his own. A girl who was too drunk to care who he was leaned against him as he sat.

“Fun party, huh?” Mangosteen shouted before the Devil could even respond. By the look in his eyes, he must have drank just as much as Wheezy, and maybe had some other things in his system.

“Well, it’s clear that you boys are having a good time,” the Devil said through gritted teeth. He had to release his grip on his glass so he wouldn’t break it.

“Boy, are we!” Mango answered. He put an arm around his boss and leaned in far too close to him. “It’s a shame that Mr. Dice won’t be here, isn’t it?”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” The Devil’s ear was ringing, and he tried to push the big guy off of him.

Mango continued unprompted. “I sure miss him. But it was nice of him to let Mr. Wheezy have the job, I guess.”

The Devil froze for a moment. Something about that sounded off. Out of his view, Mr. Wheezy shot a piercing glare at Mangosteen, who also didn’t notice.

“Is that so?” The Devil asked. “What do you mean, ‘let him have the job’?”

Mango was confused by what his boss meant. “He, uh, left because Wheezy wanted the job more, I guess? I wasn’t the one who talked to him.”

The Devil’s already gritted teeth clenched even harder. “I never told Dice that Wheezy was the other candidate. I had no idea that they discussed this.” It didn’t match Wheezy’s story of Dice leaving out of fear and stress. Nothing to do with Wheezy himself… right? On top of this, he had a suspicion that Dice wasn’t the type of guy to let someone else have a job just to be nice. He felt a sick feeling penetrate his entire body as he turned to face Mr. Wheezy. “What did you say to him, Wheezy?” The words left his lips with utmost contempt.

Wheezy shifted his glower from Mangosteen to his boss, keeping his composure. “We just had a talk, Boss. Nothing of it. He knows how long I’ve worked here. He realized that he couldn’t handle the pressure that I’ve been prepared for. He was planning on leaving anyway. That’s all.”

The Devil clenched his fists. “I highly doubt that, Wheezy.” He turned back towards Mango before getting up. “Mangosteen,” he added, “Thank you for opening this up. Wheezy, don’t you lay a finger on him.” He strided out of the casino floor and down the hall.

“Mango, you dumbass,” Wheezy growled after the Devil left.

“What’d I do?” Mangosteen said, puzzled.

Down the hall, the Devil entered his office and slammed the door. He knew that something wasn’t right all along. But for Wheezy to pull something like this? If it was true, he was right to look him in the eye and tell him he didn’t respect him. He snatched up his pitchfork from his desk. It took everything in his power to not go back out to the hallway and impale Wheezy with it. He probably shouldn’t be handling his weapon at all; he drank too much at once and had stumbled a little on the walk to his office. Despite this, he left his office out the door directly outside. He needed to find Dice and figure out the truth.


	6. How I Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Devil goes out to find the truth, and he and Dice both find out some truths about each other.

Dice felt fully relaxed. He had plans to check out a new house tomorrow; it was going to be a full day trip to get there and back. For today, he didn’t even bother to get dressed. He clutched an empty bottle in his hand as he sprawled out on the couch, listening to the radio. Though he wasn’t quite listening anymore; he had drank quite a bit and was starting to doze off. He had finally started recovering from his post-Devil depression and getting back on his feet. Today was going to be his last day of being lazy, so he was going to enjoy it.

He fantasized on what he would be doing for work after he moved. No more casinos for quite a while, no matter how much he loved that life. It was the best decision if he wanted to avoid the Devil or anything related to him. Instead, he considered picking up singing as a job. Singing in bars at night could work out well for him; and hopefully much quieter and less risky than casinos. He wasn’t old enough to be settling down yet, but he could afford to quiet down his lifestyle a bit. And anything was quieter than what he just went through. He was just glad it was all behind him.

As he was about to fall asleep, knock at the door sent him flying off the couch in surprise, almost spilling his drink on himself. He hit the ground with a thud that rattled the furniture.

“H-hello?” he said groggily.

“Dice, it’s me,” came a hiss from the other side of the door.

Dice froze. “Buh… boss?” he said despite the Devil not being his boss anymore. He examined the bottle in his hand for a moment before tossing it aside.  _ Too much _ , he thought.

The Devil responded urgently. “Yes, yes, open up.”

Dice stumbled to his feet. Why did the Devil come to his apartment? And out of all days, why come when he’s the least presentable he’s been in his whole life? He decided that trying to look any better was a lost cause, and headed to the door as is. It’s not like they were in a professional situation anymore. And for all he knew, this wasn’t even real. He cracked the door open, meeting eyes with some red orbs shining beneath a heavy cloak.

“Why are you wearing that?” Dice asked, opening the door fully now that he was sure it was the Devil. He looked ridiculous, and extremely shady.

“Why are-- why are you wearing just pants?” the Devil stammered. “Just let me in. I don’t want to attract attention to me.”

“Fair enough.” Dice stepped aside and the Devil scurried in, pulling the cloak off of his head. “Why are you here?” ask asked, as he closed the door and sat back on the couch.

The Devil hesitantly took a seat in a chair. He ruffled the fur on his head, disheveled by the heavy cloak. In fact, he looked disheveled as a whole. “Something… has come to my attention,” he said seriously.

“What’s that?” Dice assumed it must have had something to do with him quitting. It was true that he never formally told his boss that he was leaving, or warned him in any way. But he really wished that he could have just put it all behind him. He was so close to being able to move away, and here comes the Devil to open up the ordeal again. But what could he have to say for himself now?

“I’ve been informed,” The Devil shifted uneasily in his seat as he spoke, similarly to how Dice did in their first meeting, “that Mr. Wheezy told you some things.”

Dice felt a chill down his spine. Was he really cutting right to the chase? He wasn’t surprised that the Devil had suspicions about why he left, but he didn’t expect him to know about his encounter with Wheezy at all. Wheezy was the only other person who knew, and he wouldn’t rat himself out like that. Then again, this was the Devil they were dealing with. He must have ways of finding everything out. Especially everything that goes on in his own casino.

But for him to know about this? Dice wanted nothing less that the Devil to address the concept of him wanting to bone him. He had convinced himself through and through that it was a lie. But now, the Devil wasn’t making eye contact as usual… was he looking at his bare chest? When opening the door, he didn’t think much of what he was wearing, but now that they were face to face like this, he became painfully aware of his near nudity. He felt himself breaking out in a nervous sweat. “He did talk to me, yes,” he said finally.

“Did he convince you to quit?”

“I-- he-- well, yes, he did.” He didn’t want to spill too many details. Was the Devil on his side or Wheezy’s? That all depends on if there was truth in what Wheezy said or not. There was a chance that if he admitted to being assaulted and threatened, he may have to face that treatment from Wheezy again.

“What did he say?” The Devil leaned forward in his seat, and Dice noticed a gold glint coming from under his cloak. It was his pitchfork. Did the Devil come to find out the information and kill him? The worst case scenarios kept popping up in his mind.

But he knew he couldn’t lie. “He told me that he worked longer and harder for the job, and that he deserved it.” It was true; that’s what Wheezy said. Not that he had agreed with it.

“That can’t be all,” the Devil replied, impatient. “I’m not stupid, Dice. You wouldn’t give him the job out of the goodness of your heart. And you sure as hell aren’t scared of me anymore.”

The Devil was right. He still hesitated to throw Wheezy under the bus. But he was clearly avoiding the truth, so at least part of it had to be revealed. “Well, he also…” he could never tell him the real reason that he left.  _ Well, sir, I was worried that you just wanted to bone me and throw me away.  _ That was enough to cause awkward tension in the best case, and get him killed in the worst. “He threatened me.” he finally let himself say.

The Devil scowled. “I knew he was doing something shady.”

Dice let out a silent sigh of relief knowing that he wasn’t going to be killed for spilling that information. So the Devil was on Dice’s side. But none of this proved whether what Wheezy said was true or not.

“Well, in that case, Dice,” The Devil smirked. “We’re gonna have to deal with him.”

“We?”

“You think I’m gonna let the guy who scared away my best employee get away with that?” His eyes seemed to light up. “There’s no way I’m letting him keep that promotion. If you trust me enough to come back, you’re gonna be in charge of him now.”

Dice opened his mouth in shock. The Devil really came out of his way to ask him to come back? He believed his story so quickly, even after he left out the important details. How much did he already know? And did Dice believe the Devil’s story in turn? Was he really going to let him be the manager, contrary to Wheezy’s description of a ploy just to get close to him? Too many questions swirled in his head. He was feeling emotional whiplash.

“I don’t know if he said anything else to you,” the Devil continued before Dice could respond, “But I get it if you don’t want to trust me. Truth is…” He scooted his chair closer to the couch, as if he needed to tell a secret although there was no one else around to listen. He looked Dice seriously in the eyes and leaned forward. “I like having you around, Dice. You’re a hard worker. You’re just as sleazy as Wheezy, but the difference is you’re like that towards people I don’t like.”

They sat in silence for quite a while as Dice tried to figure out what to say or even think. He stared back at the Devil, still wondering what he knew. He was close enough to feel his breath on his bare chest, making him tense up. It was hot like the air in his office, feeling nice against his cold skin. Before he even had a moment to consider what he was saying, he blurted, “I’ll come back.”

Dice expected his boss to reply with his usual sly grin, but he was faced with an expression just as surprised as his own. “Really?” he said.

That sincere surprise was enough to convince Dice that he was making the right decision, or maybe it was just the fact that he was still a little drunk. “Yes, really… Boss.” he said. Even more to Dice’s surprise, the Devil cracked a smile, not an evil grin but instead one that was almost shy. Did his Boss really have some underlying desires for him? In the moment it didn’t concern him whether or not that part of Wheezy’s story was true. Working for the Devil was something that Dice genuinely enjoyed; now that he knew Wheezy was going to be taken care of, he remembered that fact again. But maybe he could still pursue that singing career-- possibly in the casino as well.

The Devil stood up suddenly. “Dice,” he said quietly. “Don’t-- don’t you dare tell anyone about what I’m about to do.”

“What are you--” Dice couldn’t finish his sentence before the Devil pounced on him. It knocked him back into the couch where he laid in shock for a few moments. He felt the Devil’s furry arms snake around his back, and his head press against his neck. He was far too warm for comfort. “Are you,” Dice said, although he felt the air being squeezed out of him. “Hugging me?”

The Devil’s voice was muffled in Dice’s neck. “Shut up and just take it. I… I thought I wouldn’t see you ever again.” He squeezed a bit tighter.

Dice didn’t know how to feel about it, let alone how to respond. So he just silently pulled his arms out from under himself and returned the hug. He felt the Devil’s fur under his bare hands. It was surprisingly soft for such a rough looking guy. He tried to ignore how good it all felt against his bare skin. “So you actually care about me?,” he asked.

The Devil lifted his head a little, his face dangerously close to Dice’s. “What do you mean by that? Of course I do. Believe it or not, I actually have the capacity to care about other people. Not many, but some.”

“Well,” Dice said, glancing into the Devil’s eyes for a moment. “I guess I care about you a little too.” They stayed like that for a few moments until the heat had Dice sweating. “So, when am I coming back?”

“Oh, right now,” The Devil lifted himself off of Dice and stood up. “If you don’t mind.”

“Right now?” Dice sat up and fixed the couch cushions. “You don’t want me to wait to come back tomorrow morning?”

“Right now! Wheezy’s throwing a party and we’re about to crash it!” His boss was wearing his usual toothy grin again, and Dice couldn’t help but crack a sly smile back. That strange tender moment was over, and he wanted to get back to being a bit more rude again.

“Just one question, Boss,” Dice said before getting up. “Why’d you bring the pitchfork?”

“We’re gonna make a grand entrance, that’s why!” the Devil howled.

\---

After cleaning himself up and dressing up fully for the first time in days, Dice was feeling like himself again. He had to take a quick wash to get the sweat and fur off of him-- the Devil turned out to be a shedder. Then he put on his makeup for the first time in weeks. He felt pleased when he was still able to get the winged eyeliner right the first time. As comfortable as he was lying around half naked at home, he loved the feeling of being fully dressed again. After double checking himself, he returned to his living room where the Devil was waiting eagerly.

“So tell me again about this ‘grand entrance’?” Dice asked.

“Get over here!” He stretched out his arm, wrapped his claws around Dice’s arm, and yanked him over as he let out a surprised gasp. “Hold on tight!” Dice did as instructed and held his Boss close, his gloves gripping his fur. This time it was his own face pressed against the Devil’s warm body, and he got a strong whiff of his scent. It was strong, but surprisingly nice.

“Here we go!” The Devil struck the ground with his pitchfork and a fire surrounded them. Dice gripped even tighter as it swirled around them, his apartment disappearing around them. He held one hand to his mouth, fearing he was going to get sick. He may have done some strange things in his life, but teleporting was not one of them. Through dizzy vision, Dice saw the casino take place around them. As the fire and smoke cleared, everyone in the casino was staring in shock at the pair that materialized in front of them. Dice loosened his grip and looked around, amazed at the Devil’s power.

“Party’s over, Wheezy!” The Devil announced. “Look who I’ve got!”

Mr. Wheezy was standing by the bar with a few women by his side. All of them looked like they could barely stand. Mangosteen was lying on the floor nearby, grinning as usual as he stared at the ceiling. Wheezy’s smile nearly fell to the ground when he saw Dice. He looked horrified; he wasn’t expecting him to agree to return at all. “I don’t believe it,” he said.

The Devil stormed over to Wheezy, grabbed him, and pulled him aside. “You thought you could pull the wool over our eyes, eh? Dice told me everything you said.”

“Everything?” Wheezy replied, presumably thinking that Dice did indeed tell him everything. His eyes darted between Dice and the Devil, and he licked his lips. “I see how it is with you two.”

Dice felt himself becoming flushed, but the Devil didn’t quite get the message. “How it is with us,” he said, digging his claws into Wheezy and drawing blood, “is that if you mess with him, you’re messing with me. He’s your manager now, got it? Don’t mess with Dice ever again.” He dropped Wheezy to the ground.

“Am-- am I fired?” he whined, suffering from the pain of the claws boring into his skin.

“Worse,” the Devil said. “You’re gonna be stuck here forever. Don’t forget, I’ve still got your soul, mister. Know your place.” He motioned towards Dice. “Get here early tomorrow, you’ve got a casino to manage.” He stormed off towards his office.

Dice nodded, trying to hide how flustered he felt over what his boss said about him. Looking down at Wheezy, he felt a wave of confidence knowing that he won over him. The broken man was crumbled on the ground, being embarrassed and shamed at his own party. Dice grinned widely and cruelly down at him. He contemplated for a moment before giving him a swift kick to the face.  _ Don’t mess with me,  _ he thought as he walked away.  _ That’s got a nice ring to it. _


	7. Power Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are seemingly back to the way they should be, but neither Devil nor Dice can feel closure until all of their secrets are out. And it feels damn good to let it out.

Dice arrived at the casino bright and early the next morning, feeling like-- he daresay-- that nothing had happened at all. His positive attitude about his promotion resumed right where it left off around a week ago. He had a spring in his step and not a worry in his mind; not even his doubts about his boss’s intentions were bothering him today. After the way he acted towards him in his home that night, he knew that nothing Wheezy had said to him was true.

The sun hadn’t even begun to rise when he entered the casino’s doors. It was deathly quiet; he must have been the first one there. He headed through the employee door and straight down the hallway to the Devil’s office. The door swung open as soon as he approached it, most likely due to his clicking footsteps making his boss aware of his approach. The Devil looked sleepy sprawled over his chair, but got himself up as Dice entered the office.

“Morning, Dice!” he said with a sleepy grin. “Ready for the day that should have happened last week?”

“I’ve been ready the whole time, Boss,” Dice replied, “So what exactly are we doing today, for me to come in so early?”

“We’ve got a full day ahead of us,” The Devil snatched up what appeared to be a long list from his desk. “Starting with taking your measurements. I need a new suit tailored for you by this afternoon.”

“A new suit?” Dice echoed. The thought of having something new to wear for this job excited him-- especially if it was tailored to fit his leggy figure. Most of his clothes he had to get resized or custom fit, and it was quite expensive.

“Stand up straight, Dice,” the Devil ordered as he whipped out a measuring tape. Dice already had pretty good posture so he easily complied. He started with height-- Dice was tall but the Devil was taller if he stood up straight as well (a rare occurrence). He measured his wide shoulders, the length of limber arms, his strong bust, thin waist, hips accentuated by--

“Firm,” the Devil muttered from behind him.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. You’re all set, have a-- a seat.”

Dice pulled up a chair as his Boss slumped back into his own and consulted the list again. “You’re moving into the empty office, but we’ll worry about that later. For now I need to educate you on payroll, timesheets, machine maintenance, discipline… the list goes on.” He let out a huge yawn. “You won’t believe the crap I put up with trying to teach all this to Wheezy. Thank goodness you came back.”

“If Mr. Wheezy was so bad,” Dice asked, “why didn’t you fire him?” It seemed merciful of him to let him keep his job.

“Well, as I told him last night, he’s stuck here. He absolutely hates it here. But I’ve got his soul, he’s in my debt. So I make him stick around, just to make him suffer, you know? He’s a great worker, when he’s not trying to sabotage his co-workers.”

“Does everyone else work here because you have their souls, too?”

“Pretty much. A few like being here, like you do. The only difference is that they can leave whenever they want and aren’t stuck here until the end of time. Don’t worry about it right now.” He skimmed the list again. “Let me show you the timesheets first.”

He proceeded to show Dice papers upon papers, files upon files, going through every point on the list. He had no idea that his boss did so much to keep this place running. It made sense that he would be stressed and need a new manager.

Dice learned the names and positions of every employee, their wages, their schedules, and how to deal with them. Before lunch he had reorganized the entire file cabinet and was taken to the casino floor to learn all the machines and tables in much more depth than he did on his first day. The Devil truly wanted him to know the casino inside and out.

“Tired yet?” the Devil asked after having Dice learn about every drink at the bar. “You need some lunch. Come back to my office after.” He gave Dice a pat on the back before leaving, and Dice felt his skin flush in reaction to the surprisingly friendly touch.

The bartender slid him a sandwich and some water. His mind was spinning from all the information and he didn't touch it for quite a while. He took his time with it, trying to prolong his break, knowing that he would have much more in store that afternoon and well into the night. At the same time, he didn't want to keep his boss waiting too. He spent a half hour with his lunch, calmly watching the casino employees and customers mill about. A few of the staff smiled or waved at him, happy to see him back. Wheezy was nowhere to be found. He probably couldn’t bear to come in so soon after disgracing himself, as well as getting his face kicked in. Dice wasn’t excited to see him again, but knew he could rough him up again if needed. After finishing his drink, he decided he should get going and he headed back to the Devil’s office.

“Ah, just in time,” the Devil said as Dice entered. “Your suit’s all ready. I got fast workers, don't I?” He motioned to a nearby table where a clean purple suit was neatly folded.

Dice approached the table. “I love it,” he said, eyes glowing.

“Go try it on, then,” the Devil suggested,  “you can get dressed in the other room. Quickly now, I don't have all day.”

Dice gingerly picked up the stack of clothes and scurried into an adjoining room to try on his new outfit. He made sure the door was closed securely behind him before undressing. This room felt even more hot and stuffy than the office, so it felt good to take his clothes off for a moment and air out. He proceeded to dry any sweat off of himself as to not soil his new clothes. Pulling up his new pants he noticed they were a bit… form fitting. Specifically around his bottom and hips. He could move just fine in them-- they were a nice stretchable material-- but they made him painfully aware of his shape. Likewise, he felt his new shirt emphasize his torso shape, from his wide chest and shoulders down to his slim waist. When the Devil said he was going to have it tailor made for him, he wasn’t kidding. No one else could have fit into it. The entire thing was incredibly soft, and he took a glove off to feel it as he adjusted himself. He straightened his bowtie a few times before opening the door back into the office.

Upon seeing Dice step in, the Devil sat up straight but said nothing.

“How do I look?” Dice asked, as he approached the mirror to see for himself.

“You look,” the Devil answered, a bit quietly, “Good. Very… good. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Dice examined different angles of himself. “You know I like to look good.”

“Mm,” the Devil mumbled in agreement. He then stood up and approached Dice, looking over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror as well. He carefully put a hand on Dice’s shoulder. “Look at yourself,” he said. “You look like a real casino king now, Mr. King Dice.”

Dice smiled and averted his eyes at the compliment. “You think so?”

“Of course!” The Devil gave Dice’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “We’re gonna make a great team, Dice.”

“Team?”

“Why not? I may still be your boss, but with you as manager you’ll be working by my side quite a bit. You’re not gonna be managing this place alone all the time. Our offices are gonna be right next door, so you can come in any time if you need me.”

“Sounds good,” Dice said, relieved that he wouldn’t be left completely alone in his job. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but if it was enough to get the Devil stressed, he wasn’t too keen on doing it alone. He wondered what else his boss would have him do today. But he must not have been in as much of a rush as he seemed earlier, seeing as he was unmoving from his side. On top of this, he felt the rough, clawed hand slowly slide from his shoulder to his head. The touch felt different than it had been when holding him in the hug. “Uh, Boss?” he asked warily.

“Yes?” the Devil replied, almost sounding urgent.

Dice felt his heart racing and his muscles tense. He wasn’t sure what the Devil was thinking, but he himself only had one thought on his mind, and this was probably the best chance he was going to get, even if just to fill the awkward moment between them.

“When Mr. Wheezy spoke to me,” he began, speaking very carefully. “He told me something else. Something I didn’t tell you before.” Even if the Devil had taken the previous news about Wheezy well, this was completely different. There was no telling how he would react.

“Eh?” The Devil’s hand tensed against the side of Dice’s head. “What’s that?”

“He told me… Now, this is going to sound very silly,” Dice tried to play it off as casually he he could. “He told me that the only reason you hired me and promoted me was because you wanted… you thought I was handsome, that you, erm, liked me, you know?” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything more vulgar than that.

There was a few moments of silence, then the Devil laughed. Dice nervously laughed in agreement.

“He really said that, Dice?” the Devil still laughed as he spoke. “I just might have to kill him now. He thinks he can just go around saying things he knows nothing about. Listen.” He lightly tapped his fingers against Dice’s head. “That’s not the  _ only _ reason.”

Dice stopped laughing along. “But,” he said seriously, turning to face his boss, “it still was a reason?”

The Devil stopped smiling when Dice made eye contact. They stared at each other for a long time. Dice waited for the Devil’s response even though he already knew the answer. To be honest, Dice felt like he knew the answer all along. Despite being such a trickster, the Devil wasn’t the best at hiding his emotions, but asking about them was still something not to be taken lightly. He was lucky he got him to admit that he cared about him.

Finally the Devil spoke. “You have green eyes,” he said.

Dice was thrown off guard. “Why, yes. I do. You just noticed?”

“I’ve noticed before,” The Devil leaned in closer. “But only a few times. You can only tell in certain lighting, I suppose. That’s why your soul is so interesting to me, Dice. It’s difficult for me to see into it.”

Dice looked back into the Devil’s eyes, large pools of gold surrounding pits of fire. Even if he wanted to look away, in this moment he could not. He swore he could feel them looking directly into his soul, but looking back at them he saw nothing inside. It terrified and hypnotized him. He had no clue why the Devil was changing the subject like this when the answer to his question was unavoidable.

“I know I tried to steal your soul when we first met,” the Devil continued, “but now I think I’d rather let you keep it. What I would much rather have, is…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but its conclusion was made evident to Dice upon noticing that his hand had trailed all the way down his back and was dancing at the edge of his pants.

“Boss, I--” Dice stammered, feeling himself getting red, “I don’t know about this.”

“Come on, Dice,” the Devil urged, dipping a finger past his pants line and leaning in closer. “I see it in your eyes. Don’t you want this?”

“I don’t know,” Dice leaned back in response. “I’m not prepared for this at all…” He had expected the Devil to admit his feelings or even desires at some point. But to immediately make an advance like this? He was thrown incredibly off guard. Did he want this? To be honest, he definitely wasn’t opposed. He had let himself have a few thoughts on the matter, even a brief fantasy while he was alone deep in the night. But they were all subconscious thoughts, ones he would quickly dismiss and push out of his mind. So likewise, he gently pushed the Devil away.

To his surprise, the Devil let out a soft whimper.

That piqued Dice’s interest.

“What was that?” he asked.

The Devil’s whole expression fell and the confidence left his face. “Nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” Dice felt a sudden rush of confidence with this new development. Now the Devil was the one caught off guard. “Then you won’t mind if I do… this?” He gave the Devil another little shove, this time causing him to stumble back towards his desk. He squeaked again, this time louder.

“Q-quit it, Dice,” the Devil attempted to warn, but his tone was breathy.

“Why Boss? We just started,” Dice teased. “This is looking to be a lot more fun than I imagined it.” He lunged forward and pinned his boss to his desk. The Devil didn’t try to deny it this time; both of them noticed the bulge forming under his fur. Dice leaned up against it and started gently grinding, and the Devil didn’t even try to hold back his whines.

“Really… Dice?” the Devil said between shaky breaths. “You’re gonna…  _ huff _ … soil your new pants like this.”

“What a shame,” Dice said, pushing harder. He was definitely surprised to see this side of the Devil, but he liked it. In the far back of his mind he still considered being disposed of after this as a possibility, so if this was the only chance he got, he was going to have fun with it. “You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you?” he asked with a smirk.

“M-maybe,” the Devil replied. His eyes were shut tight as he rutted against Dice’s pants.

“You’ve been holding this all in for so long,” Dice crooned. “Feels good to let it out, doesn’t it?” With one hand still pressing the Devil against the desk, he used the other one to reach down and push aside his fur to get a good view of his cock. It was fat and throbbing, and the sight made Dice feel even hotter.

“Dice, come on,” the Devil huffed. “I’m gonna… please…”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Dice pulled himself up for a moment and slowly slid out of his form-fitting pants. The Devil, still arched belly-up over his desk, watched eagerly as Dice’s own throbbing member, deeply purple, was released. His long forked tongue rolled down his chin, dripping with drool as his mouth hung open. Dice supposed he might as well take off his shirt as well, seeing how fixated the boss was on him. He was quite amused by how quickly this went from having a conversation with his boss to being on top of him like this.

Dice caressed the Devil’s strong, hairy legs before resuming his grinding. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of penetration quite yet, so he pulled the Devil’s legs together and began to squeeze his dick between them, sliding surprisingly easily through the soft, smooth fur. Oh, how he loved the way that fur felt. Being relatively smooth and hairless himself, he adored the feeling more than anything.

The Devil extended an arm and gripped Dice’s bouncing bottom, and stroked his own cock with the other. A few blood-red tears of pleasure rolled down his face. Everything about Dice was just as he imagined, maybe almost better. His arms were strong as they held him in place, and his powerful hips thrusted relentlessly. He was just going between his thighs, but that was more than enough for him. The sensation of Dice’s soft, bare skin against his own was too much for him to handle as he let out a deep moan. With it, he tensed his legs tight, squeezing Dice’s cock a bit too hard between them. Dice let out a small yelp of pain but kept slamming himself into the Devil nonetheless.

Dice kept going until the Devil’s fur was sticky from his legs to his stomach. He absolutely couldn’t get enough of that soft fur around his dick. And the Devil’s thighs were so hot, he felt like his dick would just melt between them. When he finally couldn’t go on, he collapsed on top of the Devil with a groan, resting his head on his chest. “Been a while since I’ve last done that,” he said, out of breath. “But I’ve never done anything quite like this.”

The Devil said nothing, but lifted up a hand to caress Dice’s head as he did earlier. He traced the straight edges and ran his thumb over his sensitive pips, feeling Dice clutch him harder with every bump. He was careful not to drag his claws against the smooth surface. After a while Dice finally spoke again. “So where do we go from here?” he asked, muffled by the fur in his face.

“Well, to be honest,” the Devil replied, “I had no other plans for you today besides moving into the office. I was banking on this working out so I set the whole afternoon aside for it.”

Dice snickered. “Of course you did.” The Devil may be tricky, but sometimes Dice felt like he knew him inside and out and wondered why he had so many doubts about him. Maybe they were pretty similar after all.

“So,” the Devil said, “we can stay like this for a bit. Figure out the office later. As for after today… if you want to do this again, stop by whenever you’re feeling it, I suppose. I think this is the start of something real good, Dice.”


	8. Risky Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BEGINNING OF ARC 2: Dice is now officially the casino manager, and is having a wonderful time. But now he learns the true reason the Devil needed a manager-- aside from being his lover.

When Dice started working at the casino, it took some time to take in the fact that the Devil was his boss. This became easily overshadowed by the fact that he was sleeping with his boss. But the biggest mental hurdle by far was the inevitable connection that he was sleeping with the Devil. It didn’t completely surprise him-- he was already a sinner, so he might as well sin big.

He settled easily into a routine after his first few weeks as manager. His job didn’t change much from before; his specialty still was smooth talking people into spending big. Except now, he was allowed to boss everyone around, and lucky for him that was his second favorite pastime after gambling. Dice was a natural leader, and the casino employees could easily respect him. He didn’t mess with anyone who didn’t mess with him or his boss. And as if he wasn’t popular before, he continued to be the star of the casino, now with a fancy title. He wasn’t just a mysterious casino king, he was _the_ king of the casino.

After the hustle and bustle of each long day, he returned to his new office to sift through paperwork rather than his dusty apartment. He was barely in that apartment anymore, not even to go to sleep. Around the start of his second week as manager he had began preparations to move into the casino full-time; until then, he preferred to stay with the Devil overnight. The Devil had a huge, soft bed, and they sure made good use of it. Every night after they finished their paperwork (or not), they poured a few drinks and climbed into those deep red sheets. Pinning the Devil to his own desk had felt amazing, but railing him into that plush bed was absolutely divine. He would fall asleep with his fingers intertwined in the Devil’s fur and wake up being caressed in his arms. They would laze about as long as they could until they absolutely had to get up for work-- they were in charge, after all. They made their own hours. It was the perfect arrangement. Even better was that it was all their own; no one else had a clue. Except for Mr. Wheezy.

“Ey, Dicey,” Wheezy croaked through a cloud of smoke as he encountered Dice in the hall. He planted himself in from of him, stopping him in his tracks. “How’s you and lovey doing?”

“Don’t push it,” Dice continued walking around Wheezy. He didn’t make eye contact or even turn his head towards the guy. “You know what’ll happen if anyone besides you even gets an inkling of it.” If the public knew that the Devil and his manager had such a connection, it would ruin their image, and they’d be accused of corruption even more so than the Devil already was. Two business partners in charge of so much money is one thing, two lovers is scandalous. It would be a huge mess.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Wheezy struggled to keep up with Dice’s brisk pace. “Torture and fire and all that. Hell, just askin’ a question.”

Dice reached the door to the Devil’s office and stopped, not wanting Wheezy to follow him in. “If you really must know,” he said, turning around to face him, “We’re doing just fine. How about yourself in that department?” He gave Wheezy a sly smile.

Wheezy frowned in response. Dice didn’t know the whole story with Wheezy, but he knew that despite being a local whore, Wheezy was very much single. He teased him about it quite a bit; it quickly shut him down if he was picking on him too much. He felt no remorse picking on Wheezy’s insecurities.

“I’m fine,” Wheezy said. His eyes shifted away. He seemed more nervous than his usual angry reaction. “Really. I make do. But I’m sure you’re not worried about me.”

“You’re right, I’m not worried,” Dice opened his door and slipped inside. “Quit dawdling and get back to work,” he added before slamming it behind him. He let out a frustrated sigh while listening to Wheezy walk away. Despite the entire situation, Wheezy was still next in command after Dice, and he had to work with him and deal with it. But goodness, did he make it difficult to work with him.

“You all right?”

Dice lifted his head at the sound of the Devil’s voice. He had told Dice to come over at some point this afternoon to discuss some things. Whether he meant discuss or “discuss", he would soon find out. Often, he was called for “an urgent, mandatory business meeting”, only to be met with the Devil sprawled on his chair for the taking. But at the moment the Devil seemed a bit preoccupied. He was sitting up straight in his chair, and in front of his desk there was a man cowering on the floor.

“I’m, uh,” Dice eyed the whimpering man. “I’m fine. Just Wheezy being Wheezy.” He hesitantly walked over to his boss’s side opposite the desk. “You know how it is.”

“Fair enough,” the Devil said, shooting a glance up at Dice. “Anyway, you’re early. This sad little thing--" he made a small motion towards the man, who cowered further, “--didn’t uphold his end of a deal.”

Dice grinned at the sound of that. “Dirty little deal breaker, eh?” he teased. “Should know better than to try pullin’ one over the Devil.” Standing by the Devil’s side, looking down at people like this-- it made Dice feel powerful. He would never get sick of it. He had no clue exactly what this man did, but if it was enough to get him dragged into the Devil’s office, he was going to roll with it.

“I - I’m sorry, Mr. Devil… sir,” the man squeaked. “I can fix my mistake, I can give you even more, hell, I'll double it!” He looked up with a wild, desperate expression.

“Shut up!” the Devil interrupted, flames in his eyes. “You got one chance, and you blew it. Did you really think I'd be ‘nice’ or ‘fair’ with you?” His claws dug into the armrests of his chair. Dice had to hold himself back from putting his own hands on the Devil’s. There was something about him getting angry that Dice loved. As long as it was never directed towards him.

The man couldn't help but whimper even louder as he felt the room heat up. It felt as if the fires of Hell were creeping up and could grab him at any moment. “I-- I understand,” he said. “B-but please, don't… don't kill me, please…” he all but broke down sobbing.

The Devil licked his lips and snickered a little. “I’m not gonna kill you,” he said.

The man sighed in relief before letting his cries quiet down. “Thank you…” he said after his breathing eased. His shaking didn’t stop, however, and he still looked like he was about to soil the carpet.

“Yep, I won’t kill you,” the Devil repeated, softly. “I’m gonna make someone else do that.” Panic returned to the man’s face just as quickly as it left. The Devil struggled to hide his amusement. Dice let out a small snicker. Holding back laughs, the Devil procured a small radio device. “Get in here, Mango,” he snapped into it.

“Mango, eh?” Dice questioned. He usually saw Mango forcefully escorting people out of the casino, but he didn’t seem the type to deal with matters like this.

“Oh, yeah, I have him do this kind of crap all the time. I'd kill the guy myself, but I'd rather talk with you.” His hand crept close to Dice’s, but he didn’t dare to touch it with any witnesses, even one who wouldn’t live to tell about it.

“How kind of you.” Dice let his little finger brush up against the Devil’s arm. “Goodness, you’re too cute when you’re being nefarious.” He added softly.

“Don’t you dare call me cute,” The Devil practically whispered.

“I think I’ll call you whatever I want, kitten.”

The two shared small talk for a few minutes, ignoring the man’s pleas below them. Dice had no clue what the Devil’s intentions were today, but he spoke flirtatiously all the same. There was something hot about the way the Devil messed with people. He had witnessed it a few times, usually being invited in to tease some sorry victim together and tear their soul out. But he had never been around for anything worthy of execution. He had to admit it excited him a little.

Their conversation stopped when they heard a knock at the door. The Devil motioned for it to open and Mangosteen stepped in. “You needed me for something, Boss?” He, like Dice had upon entering, nervously eyed the desperate man on the floor. The man was now fully collapsed, sobbing without holding back.

“Dear Mango,” The Devil clasped his hands together and grinned widely. “Do you remember what we do when someone doesn't uphold their end of a deal?” He asked him in the voice of a teacher asking for the answer to a simple math problem.

Mango took a few steps closer. “Well…” he said, thinking. “When someone breaks a deal, we… uh…”

“You kill ‘em!” the Devil snapped, impatient.

“That, uh, doesn't rhyme, Boss.”

“Doesn't have to,” the Devil leaned forward. “I’m sure you’ll remember it well enough with practice.”

“Well, Boss,” Mango said, thinking for a moment before, cracking his knuckles, “When you're right, you're right.”

“I know,” The Devil’s eyes shifted back to the man on the floor. “Now if you don't mind, could you kindly take our little friend out back for me?”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Mango scooped the sobbing mess off the floor with one hand, his face eerily maintaining that same jolly smile.

“P-please, no…” the man whispered.

“Oh, don't worry,” the Devil sneered. “Mango's just gonna play with you for a bit, is all. It'll be fun.” As Mango neared the back door, he added, “Try not to trail any blood on your way back in, Mango.” Mango nodded before opening the door, stepping out, and slamming it, cutting off the man’s screams.

The office was silent again. The two listened for a few more moments, but no sound could slip through the door.

“So,” Dice said, not wanting to stand in silence forever. “You do that a lot?”

“Yes, sadly.” The Devil reclined in his chair and lit a cigar. “People don’t respect my deals like they used to. That’s what happens when you get all your souls from casino-goers. Think I’ll trick ‘em, so they try to trick me first. It never works out for them, of course. At least Mango gets some fun out of it.”

Dice hesitated for a moment. “... Fun?”

“Doesn’t seem like it, huh?” The Devil smiled up at Dice. “Mango’s nice and all, but when it comes down to it? He’s crazy. He’ll do whatever I want him to. And he loves being able to rough a guy up once in a while.” He made a few punching motions with his hands.

“Rough him up? He’s out there to kill the guy.”

“All the same to him.” The Devil shrugged.

“Remind me not to make him mad, then.” Dice shifted his feet uneasily. “Anyway, why did you want me to come over? I mean, earlier than you usually want to see me.”

“Not the reason you’d like to hear, Dice.” The Devil opened a desk drawer and pulled out a stack of paper. “We’ve got business to do.”

Dice sighed, but laid a hand on the Devil’s shoulder nonetheless. “Real business, huh?”

“Real business,” the Devil echoed, running his fingers through the sheets before placing them down on the desk. “Can you believe it? Anyway, I suppose it’s good you got here early, since now you’ll understand what my issue is. You see, I need to address the reason I hired you.”

“I thought we address that every night,” Dice massaged his thumb into the Devil’s tense muscles. “But,” he added, sounding serious again. “It’s true that you never actually did tell me what the other reasons were. Especially since you almost put Wheezy in this position.”

The Devil shuddered a reason at the thought, then leaned into Dice’s hand for comfort. “You’re right about that,” he said, tapping the pile of documents. “Well, you’re finding out now. Like I said, getting souls from casino-goers is… less reliable than it used to be. Sure, they’re all right here in my trap, and you’re helping me grab them. But lately they’re trying to outsmart me more and more, and it’s exhausting. So I’ve been planning something different-- even before I first hired you. Instead of stealing souls and making shaky deals, I’d like more people to, well, sell them to me.”

“Hmm,” Dice listened carefully, continuing to rub the Devil’s fluffy shoulder. With his other hand, he picked up the first sheet in the pile. “NEW, BETTER, REALLY GOOD SOUL CONTRACT PLAN COPYRIGHT THE DEVIL (ME)” The rest of the writing was illegible.

“So where you came in,” the Devil continued. “You’ve been helping me manage the casino and do paperwork so I could focus on this. I’ve written new contracts that should give me less trouble, and began preparations. Now I really need you to pick up the slack, because I’ll be gone for a bit.”

“Gone?” Dice could do fine on his own, but he still didn’t like the idea of being left completely alone, especially at night.

“Don’t worry too much, Dice, I won’t be gone forever. In a week or so, I’ll be heading out to see if my plan’s gonna work out. Try and snatch some souls, see how much more easily I can trick people who never come here. Get some more… unique souls, maybe. Ones less tainted and sour.”

“The way you talk about souls makes it sound like you eat them,” Dice placed the paper neatly back on the stack, then wrapped both his arms lazily around the Devil.

“Maybe I do,” The Devil turned his head and grinned widely, baring his teeth. “Maybe I’m gonna eat yours, and gobble it up.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Dice smiled back and planted a quick kiss on the Devil’s forehead. “I can’t imagine how bad mine tastes.”

The Devil purred a little. “If it tastes anything like the rest of you tastes, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Mm. You hungry?” Dice spoke in a low tone, his voice reverberating in the Devil’s ears.

“Maybe,” The Devil took Dice’s hands in his and purred again.

“I guess that means we’re done with business for now?”

“For now.”

Dice laughed a little in anticipation. He squeezed the Devil tight before releasing, then rotated himself onto his lap. Playfully, he grinded a little bit without removing his pants, making the boss whimper a little. Only the Devil could go from sending a man to his execution one minute, to being a submissive mess the next. He grabbed at Dice’s clothes a little, wanting nothing more than to tear them off, but he knew that ruining them would upset Dice.

“Patience, patience,” Dice crooned. He caressed the Devil’s face lightly with a gloved hand. The Devil rubbed his cheek into it, loving how soft it felt against his rough, hairy skin. Dice then pulled his face a little closer. He kissed him on the forehead, trailing down to his nose, then finally to his waiting lips. His long tongue was already dripping with saliva as it plunged into Dice’s mouth. The more he felt Dice’s pants tighten, the more aggressively he kissed Dice back.

“What…” Dice breathed between kisses. “What else can that tongue of yours do?”

“Want me to show you?” The Devil’s voice rumbled.

Dice smirked as he reached back and shoved the papers out of the way. He made sure the desk was clear before he perched himself on top of it. The Devil grabbed at Dice’s pants as he slipped them off. They were just as silky as his gloves, and slid smoothly down his toned legs. The Devil was entranced as he watched Dice’s cock emerge, deep purple and throbbing. In fact he was nearly frozen in awe, and Dice needed to pull him closer with his feet so he would snap out of it.

“Get to it, kitten,” Dice said, watching eagerly.

The Devil’s tongue was already hanging out; he lifted it gently to touch Dice’s dick before letting it wrap around several times over. It was long and skillful, working better than any hand could. Dice couldn’t help but grunt at the sensation of it before he even got it going. The Devil’s tongue took a strong hold as he eased it into his mouth, careful not to touch his sharp teeth.

“Mm… ooh, that’s divine,” Dice gushed, practically moaning the moment he felt the Devil’s lips close around his cock. He wrapped his feet around the back of the Devil’s head, keeping him close and steady. He felt like he was about to come already, but he didn’t want to give the Devil that satisfaction. So he held out a bit longer.

But it was so good. It was wet and warm and powerful, and after a few minutes he decided it wasn’t worth it to hold it in. As if the Devil wasn’t thrusting his mouth and tongue hard enough, Dice jerked his own hips a little. He felt his tip slam into the back of the Devil’s throat, and that was enough to set him over the edge. With one last thrust, he shot a massive load straight into that throat. Dice moaned deeply as he released his legs’ grip, pulling back as to not completely choke the Devil.

Before either one could recover, the back door swung open.

They both forgot that Mangosteen was still out there. Not knowing what to do, they just froze where they were.

“All taken care of, Bo-- oh.” Mangosteen was wide eyed as he took in the scene in front of him. Dice, sprawled on his back on the desk, pants down, dick dripping. The Devil, slouched in his chair, his own cock slick with precum, Dice’s own cum dripping out of his mouth. It was certainly a sight to behold.

Devil had no choice but to swallow everything in his mouth in order to speak. He made direct eye contact with Mangosteen while doing this. “Mango.” he said sternly.

“B-boss, I,” Mango knew that he walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He pressed together his hands nervously. They, as well as parts of his clothes, were covered in blood, but that wasn’t a concern to anyone in the room at the moment. “I’m, uh, should I--”

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” the Devil snapped. “You never saw any of this. Knock next time.” He wiped his mouth and sat up straight in his chair. “Now leave.”

“O-of course, Boss!” Mango scrambled out of the office as fast as he could, the door slamming behind him. The room fell silent.

“Still in the mood?” Dice asked, eyeing the Devil’s crotch.

“How could I be?” the Devil growled in reply. “He got blood on the carpet.”


End file.
